Chapter VIII
SUSIE could not persuade herself that Haddo’s regret was sincere. The humility of it aroused her suspicion. She could not get out of her mind the ugly slyness of that smile which succeeded on his face the first passionate look of deadly hatred. Her fancy suggested various dark means whereby Oliver Haddo might take vengeance on his enemy, and she was at pains to warn Arthur. But he only laughed.
“The man’s a funk,” he said. “Do you think if he’d had anything in him at all he would have let me kick him without trying to defend himself?”
Haddo’s cowardice increased the disgust with which Arthur regarded him. He was amused by Susie’s trepidation.
“What on earth do you suppose he can do? He can’t drop a brickbat on my head. If he shoots me he’ll get his head cut off, and he won’t be such an ass as to risk that!”
Margaret was glad that the incident had relieved them of Oliver’s society. She met him in the street a couple of days later, and, since he took off his hat in the French fashion without waiting for her to acknowledge him, she was able to make her cut more pointed.
She began to discuss with Arthur the date of
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