have her, sir. Staying away from her as you have, sir. Making her eat her heart out, sir. No, sir, I won’t hold my tongue, sir.”
And Blanche, mounting in paroxysms of indignation, shouted: “For the Lord’s sake, sir. Hanging is too good for you, sir. You ought to have your ghost kicked. Yes, sir.”
“Oh, hell!” muttered Loftus between his teeth, and turning on his heel, he stalked out, flecking from his sleeve as he went an imaginary speck.