"And she does not despise you for playing the coward—calling out when the shoe begins to pinch?"
De Rothan's insolence roused Durrell to a thin and austere dignity.
"Sir, do you think that my daughter admires your idea of honour any more than I do? Her sympathies are with this young man, concerning whom you saw fit to tell me many lies."
"Ah—is that so!"
"I have said it. I do not ask your leave to tell the truth."
De Rothan's face seemed to sharpen and to harden its outlines. He looked at Durrell out of half-closed eyes.
"Let us be frank. Am I to understand that this calf that I have tied up in a stall is particularly precious to your daughter?"
"I refuse to deal in such terms."
"The devil take all our little nicenesses! Do you mean to tell me that Nance cares one farthing whether that round-headed young oaf——"
"My daughter is not for your discussion."