“Enough!”
“Yes, I’m going—I’m going to clear out and find some atmosphere where I can breathe.”
“D’you dare to suggest running away?”
“Yes, I’m clearing out.”
Some half-formed thought drove Mr. Rendall to seize the handle and put his back against the door.
“That won’t stop me,” said Wynne. “It isn’t a race for the front door, which I lose if you’re quick enough to stop me.”
“Very well,” conceded Mr. Rendall. “Very well—and how the devil do you think you’d live! Hey?”
“I shall manage.”
“Manage be damned! Not a penny shall you have from me—not a farthing—not a bean.”
“Then take back what I have already.”