cane left in her now, and at present she felt that there was no love for anyone or anything else in all the world.
Ducane was scattering curses through his incoherent wrath. His natural bullying temper had outleapt its bounds and he was nearly mad with fury. But the quiet, half-smiling man against the door cowed him. He kept his distance.
"How dare you interfere between me and my wife?" he foamed. "In a man's own house, too. I'll have you"
"Do you really call yourself a man?" asked Dick politely.
"I—I" Ducane became incoherent again. "You have no right, legal or otherwise, damn you"
"I don't want any right other than my muscles." Dick came forward suddenly; close up to the stuttering, purple face. "Your word isn't worth much," he said. "But I have a fancy to make you give it to me. Will you control yourself more in future? You had better say yes. I give you a couple of minutes to think it over."
"I'll have you up for assault if you try to bully me."
"If you do I assure you I will endeavour to make it worth your while." Dick began to unbutton his tunic. "You prefer it this way then?" he asked.
"No! No!" Ducane backed away, unmanned by a sudden fear. "No. I know you could lick me."
"So do I. If I wasn't so absolutely sure perhaps I'd take a sporting try at it. Mr. Ducane, nerve-attacks like this don't come on a man without reach. Unless you want me to begin taking a professional interest in your affairs you had better learn to control yourself. Do you understand?"
He doubted the wisdom of this half-veiled threat. But he needed a weapon which would strike home. This did. Ducane reeled back against the wall, and his puffy face turned tallow-pale.
"There's nothing wrong with my private affairs," he gasped. "Nothing."
"Then it is heart or stomach, I suppose. You'd better see de Choiseaux. Shall I send him over in the morning?"
