"I mean just this, Doctor Nash. When you happen to be in my house be careful what you say about my friends."
Nash stared. Then he laughed unpleasantly. "Are you bitten, too?" he asked.
Rayton got to his feet. "See here, Nash, I don't want to cut up rusty, or be rude, or anything of that kind," he exclaimed, "but I warn you that if you don't drop this personal strain there'll be trouble."
"Personal strain!" retorted the other. "How the devil are we to talk about that card trick, and the cause of it, without becoming personal?"
Rayton was silent.
"But you know what I think about it," continued Nash, "so you can make what you please of it. I'll be going now. I'm not used to be jawed at by a—by a farmer."
The Englishman laughed, helped his offended guest into his overcoat, followed him to the stable, and hitched-in the nag for him.
"A word of advice to you," said Nash, when he was all ready to drive away. "If you have your eye on Miss Harley, take it off. Don't run away with any idea that Jim is trying to scare young Marsh out so as to clear the road for you."
Then the whip snapped and away he rolled into the darkness.
Rayton stood in the empty barnyard for a long time, as motionless as if he had taken root. "I'll keep a grip on my temper," he said at last. "For a while, anyway. When I do let myself out at that silly ass it'll be once and for all."