"I do ask you to. I have some right to know. I'd be justified in detaining you if I wanted to—"
"You couldn't!" cried the trembling youth passionately.
"I said I'd be justified. Are you, in dashing like a shot into my life and then leaving me without a word to explain it? I've played host to you gladly, though you've torn my nerves to pieces. Remember how you came here!"
"Yes! Yes!" ejaculated the boy bitterly. "I'm an intruder! I forced myself on you and I know it! God knows I know it!"
"I didn't mean it unkindly. I tell you, I want you to stay! I want you to, no matter what you are or what you've done. You've admitted that you've done something—something terrific—"
"And I have!" cried the boy, his eyes lighting wildly. "At last, at last! I've done it, I've done it!"
"And in spite of it, I want you to stay! Whatever it is, I want to protect you from the consequences of it!"
"Look to yourself!" cried the boy. "You'll curse me yet for coming here! Let me go, and protect yourself!"
"I am no longer considering myself, I've done that too much in my life, and to-night I'm reckless. No matter what the crime you've done—"
"Crime?" His visitor flashed wondering eyes upon him. "You fool! You fool!" Again, the exclamation was like an echo of himself, but Mr. Montagu had no time to entertain the thought, for the boy was stammering out his astonishment in hysterical syllables. "I—a criminal! I—I—Oh, I might have known it would seem that way to you! But I—"