"
"Did she give you no reason?" said Scott. He hated parleying with the
man, but something impelled him thereto.
Guy Bathurst leaning back at his ease with his cigarette between his
lips, uttered a careless laugh. "She seemed to think she wasn't in love
with him. We couldn't get any more out of her than that. As a matter of
fact her mother was too furious to attempt it. But there must have been
some other reason. I wondered if you knew what it was."
"I shouldn't have thought it essential that there should have been any
other reason," Scott said deliberately. "If there is--I am not in her
confidence."
He was still on his feet as if he wished it to be clearly understood that
he did not intend their conversation to develop into anything of the
nature of friendly intercourse.
Bathurst continued to smoke, but a faint air of insolence was apparent in
his attitude. He was not accustomed to being treated with contempt, and
the desire awoke within him to find some means of disconcerting this
undersized whippersnapper who had almost succeeded in making him feel
cheap.
"You haven't been making love to her on your own account by any chance, I
suppose?" he enquired lazily.
Scott's eyes flashed upon him a swift and hawk-like regard, and the
hauteur that so often characterized his brother suddenly descended upon
him and clothed him as a mantle.
"I have not," he said.
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