“I am sorry. You should not have provoked me. I asked you not to talk about it.”
“I am afraid, Miss Atherton,” said he, “some one has been prejudicing you against me. Percy, perhaps, has been talking about me.”
Raby walked on without replying.
“Percy is very angry with me for doing what it was only my duty to do as his friend—and yours. He misunderstands me, and, I fear, so do you.”
“I do not misunderstand you at all,” said Raby boldly.
“But I am afraid you do not thank me.”
“No. I have nothing to thank you for.”
“I did my duty, at any rate. I stated the truth, and nothing more, and should have been wrong to allow things to go on without at least trying, for the sake of those for whom I cared, and still care, Miss Atherton, to set them right. Do I understand you blame me for that?”
“Mr Scarfe, you have done a cruel thing to one who never did you harm—and I see nothing to admire in it.”
Scarfe sneered.