for she ascribed to the peculiar heat of the last few days much of Arthur’s sullen irritability.
“Arthur, you must tell us what you are going to do,” she said. “It is useless to stay here. We are all so ill and nervous that we cannot consider anything rationally. We want you to come away with us to-morrow.”
“You can go if you choose,” he said. “I shall remain till that man is dead.”
“It is madness to talk like that. You can do nothing. You are only making yourself worse by staying here.”
“I have quite made up my mind.”
“The law can offer you no help, and what else can you do?”
She asked the question, meaning if possible to get from him some hint of his intentions; but the grimness of his answer, though it only confirmed her vague suspicions, startled her.
“If I can do nothing else I shall shoot him like a dog.”
She could think of nothing to say, and for a while they remained in silence. Then he got up.
“I think I should prefer it if you went,” he said. “You can only hamper me.”
“I shall stay here as long as you do.”
“Why?”
“Because if you do anything I shall be compromised. I may be arrested. I think the fear of that may restrain you.”
He looked at her steadily. She met his eyes with a calmness which showed that she meant exactly
