Flowers--no, I'm sure you won't!"
Ravenslee's voice was soft and pleasant as usual, but before the burning
ferocity of his eyes, the merciless line of that grim, implacable mouth,
before all the hush and deadly purpose of him, the loud hectoring of
M'Ginnis seemed a thing of no account. Beholding his pale, set face
Hermione, sighing deeply, shrank away; even M'Ginnis blenched as, very
slowly, Ravenslee approached him, speaking softly the while.
"Get out, Mr. Flowers, get out! Don't say another word--no, not one, if
only because of 'that dog-gone fool Heine!' Now go, or so help me God,
this time--I'll kill you!"
Hermione leaned her trembling body against the table for support. And
yet--could it be fear that had waked this new glory in her eyes, had
brought this glowing colour to her cheek, had made her sweet breath pant
and hurry so--fear?
M'Ginnis stood rigid, watching Ravenslee advance; suddenly he tried to
speak yet uttered no word; he raised a fumbling hand to his bruised and
swollen throat, striving again for speech but choked instead, and,
uttering a sound, hoarse and inarticulate, he swung upon his heel and
strode blindly away.
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