"
"You have some pretty theories to-night," I sneered. "Perhaps you'll go
on to tell me which of us two has been Elaine's husband, feeding
daintily in Lennox Gardens, clothed in purple and fine linen, while the
other--"
He interrupted me by picking up his revolver and striding to the
fireplace again.
"So be it, since you will have it so. Kill me," he added, with a queer
look, "and perhaps you may go back to Lennox Gardens and enjoy all these
things in my place."
I took my station. Both revolvers were levelled now. I took sight
along mine at his detested face. It was white but curiously eager--
hopeful even. I lowered my arm, scanning his face still; and still
scanning it, set my weapon down on the table.
"I believe you are mad," said I slowly. "But one thing I see--that, mad
or not, you're in earnest. For some reason you want me to kill you;
therefore that shall wait. For some reason it is torture to you to live
and do without me: well, I'll try you with that. It will do me good to
hurt you a bit." I slipped the revolver into my pocket and tapped it.
"Though I don't understand them, I won't quarrel with your sentiments so
long as you suffer from them. When that fails, I'll find another
opportunity for this. Good night." I stepped to the door. "Reggie!"
I shut the door on his cry: crossed the corridor, and climbing out
through the window, let myself drop into the lane.
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