him. And he did not hear when Tempest, coming back from the Leighs' evening party, walked down the passage, and opened the mess-room door. It was Andree who heard and saw and pulled free with a little cry. Dick did not look at Tempest. He put the girl into her cap and coat; pulled wide the outer door, and gave her good-night on the step. Then he turned coolly back into the room, with a simulation of indifference on him. His luck was surely surpassing itself to-night. Tempest's head was bare. But he still wore his fur coat, and his hands were gloved. Dick wondered for a moment if the man would hit him. But Tempest only said, very quietly:
"If she was not good enough for me, can it be possible that you consider her good enough for yourself, my friend?"
The words bit like acid, but Dick did not wince. His mouth drew down at the corners in the slight smile Tempest had always hated to see. There was no defence for this case, and he was not going to make any. Tempest's face changed. His eyes blazed suddenly, and he drew himself up to his full height: cold ringing steel, like the sword of justice unsheathed.
"I hold you responsible for her," he said. "I hold you responsible for her till the end of time."
Out of the miserable consciousness of his treachery Dick answered him.
"By what right?" he asked, and the sneer twisted his lips.
A moment more Tempest stood, unmoving. Then he seemed to crumble and weaken. He put his hand up to his face suddenly; turned, and stumbled out, and Dick saw his shoulders heaving. The door shut, and Dick sought in his pockets for his pipe; tried to fill it, and found that his hands would not serve him. He stood still, staring straight at the wall. There was no palliation for what he had done, and not for an instant did he attempt to find any. Vaguely, at the back of his head, two lines of some profane song were ringing:
"And the thief on the left said never a word,
For the son of a gun had sand."
