Hugh had clearly determined in his opponent a rise of what is called spirit. "A service that you half an hour ago thrust on me, sir—and with which you may take it from me that I'm already quite prepared to dispense."
"I'm sorry to appear indiscreet," our young man returned; "I'm sorry to have upset you in any way. But I can't overcome my anxiety———"
Lord Theign took the words from his lips. "And you therefore invite me—at the end of half an hour in this house!—to account to you for my personal intentions and my private affairs and make over my freedom to your hands?"
Hugh stood there with his eyes on the black and white pavement that stretched about him—the great lozenged marble floor that might have figured that ground of his own vision which he had made up his mind to "stand." "I can only see the matter as I see it, and I should be ashamed not to have seized any chance to appeal to you." Whatever difficulty he had had shyly to face didn't exist for him now. "I entreat you to think again, to think well, before you deprive us of such a source of just envy."
