“If you have any personal objection to me, sir, be so good as to state it plainly.”
“You have no right to ask me to do that.”
“You refuse to do it?”
“Positively.”
“You are not very civil, Mr. Gracedieu.”
“If I speak without ceremony, Mr. Dunboyne, you have yourself to thank for it.”
Philip replied to this in a tone of savage irony. “You are a minister of religion, and you are an old man. Two privileges—and you presume on them both. Good-morning.”
I drew back into a corner, just in time to escape discovery in the character of a listener. Eunice never moved. When Philip dashed into the room, banging the door after him, she threw herself impulsively on his breast: “Oh, Philip! Philip! what have you done? Why didn’t you keep your temper?”
“Did you hear what your father said to me?” he asked.
“Yes, dear; but you ought to have controlled yourself—you ought, indeed, for my sake.”