"I did not ask for the lady's point of view," he admonished, "I asked for your own."
Again Sidwell felt his opportunity, but physical cowardice intervened. No power on earth could have made him say "yes" when the other looked at him like that.
"No," he lied, "I do not see that it should make the slightest difference."
"On your honor, you swear you do not?"
Sidwell repeated the statement, and sealed it with his honor.
Ben Blair relaxed, and Hough mopped his brow with a sigh of relief. Even Sidwell felt the respite, but it was short-lived.
"I think," Ben resumed, "that what you've just said and sworn to gives the lie to your original statement that you have given me no cause for enmity. According to your own showing you are the one existing obstacle between Florence Baker and myself. Is it not so?"
Like a condemned criminal, Sidwell felt the noose tightening.
"I can't deny it," he admitted.
For some seconds Ben Blair looked at him with an expression almost menacing. When he again spoke the first trace of passion was in his voice.