After all, mind doesn't
always triumph over matter. Montague Nevitt was aware that that
mountain of a man, with his six feet four of muscular humanity,
fairly cowed and overawed him at such very close quarters.
"I don't see what business it is of yours, Mr. Gildersleeve," he
murmured, in a somewhat apologetic voice. "I may surely be allowed
to hunt up questions of pedigree, of service in the end to myself
and my friends, without YOUR interference."
Gilbert Gildersleeve glared at him, and flared up all at once with
righteous indignation.
"Of service in the end to yourself and your friends!" he cried, with
unfeigned scorn, putting his own interpretation, as was natural,
on the words. "Why, you cur! you reptile! you unblushing sneak! Do
you mean to say openly you avow your intention of threatening and
blackmailing me? here--alone--to my face! You extortionate wretch!
I wouldn't have believed even YOU in your heart would descend to
such meanness."
Montague Nevitt, flurried and taken aback as he was, yet reflected
vaguely with some wonder, as he listened and looked, what this
sudden passion of disinterested zeal could betoken. Why such
burning solicitude for Colonel Kelmscott's estate on the part of
a man who was his avowed enemy? Even if Gwendoline meant to marry
the young fellow Granville, with her father's consent, how could
Nevitt himself levy blackmail upon Gilbert Gildersleeve by his
knowledge of the two Warings' claim to the property? A complication
surely.
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