Farrell," I broke in; "with your leave we won't
discuss Miss Denistoun, here or anywhere--as, with your leave, we'll
cut all further conversation until Dr. Foe is fit for it, which at
this moment he pretty obviously is not. It may help your silence if
I tell you that the lady who has just left is, or was, engaged to
marry him."
"_Christ! . . . And she knows?_" He stared, less at us than at the
four walls about him.
"She does not," said I: "or did not, until a few minutes ago."
"But _you_ knew!"--Wrath again filled Farrell's sails. "_You_ knew--
and you allowed it. . . . And you call yourselves gentlemen, I
suppose!"
"If you take that tone with either of us for an instant longer,"
I answered, after a pause, "you shall be thrown out of that door, and
your dog shall follow through the window. If you prefer to stand
quite still and hold your tongue--will you?--why, then, you are
welcome to the information that I only heard of this engagement less
than an hour ago, and Mr. Collingwood less than ten minutes before
you entered."
"But you knew _that other thing_," Farrell insisted.
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