“May I inquire what brings you here?" he asked sweetly. "And why you saw fit to bring the saintly Richard?”
“I came because it suited me to do so. I never dreamed you were here——— ’Pon my soul, I did not!”
“Where then did you think I was?”
“Never thought about you at all, my dear fellow. I’m not your squire.”
“Why is Richard here?”
“Lord, what a catechism! He is here because he brought me with him on his way to Wyncham. Have you any objection?”
“It would be useless,” shrugged Tracy. “Have I killed that young fool?”
Andrew looked him over in disgust.
“No, you have not. You have barely touched him, thanks be.”
“Dear me! Why this sudden affection for Carstares?”
Andrew swung round on his heel, remarking over his shoulder:
“He may be a cheat, but he’s a damned fine fellow. By Gad! he nearly pinked you as I entered!” He chuckled at the memory of that glorious moment.
“He nearly pinked me a dozen times,” replied Tracy, binding his arm round more tightly. “He fights like ten devils. But he was fatigued.”
He followed Andrew across the room and stood looking down at his unconscious foe.
Diana’s eyes challenged him.
“Stand back, your Grace! You have no more to do here!”
He drew out his snuff-box and took a pinch.
“So that is how the matter lies, my dear. I did not know that.”
“You pretend that it would have made a difference in your treatment of me?”
