Pull yourself together, man! Miss Seymour is not accustomed to be spoken of in that way and you know it.

Now don't be foolish--stay here with Uncle George and the doctor until you cool down.

There are the best of reasons why I should dance the reel with Miss Kate, but I can't explain them now." "Neither am I, Mr.Harry Rutter, accustomed to be spoken to in that way by you or anybody else.

I don't care a rap for your explanations.

Get out of my way, or you'll be sorry," and he sprang one side and flung himself out of the room before Harry could realize the full meaning of his words.
St.George saw the flash in the boy's eyes, and stretching out his hand laid it on Harry's arm.
"Steady, my boy! Let him go--Kate will take care of him." "No! I'll take care of him!--and now!" He was out of the room and the door shut behind him before Temple could frame a reply.
St.George shot an anxious, inquiring look at Teackle, who nodded his head in assent, and the two hurried from the room and across the expanse of white crash, Willits striding ahead, Harry at his heels, St.George and the doctor following close behind.
Kate stood near the far door, her radiant eyes fixed on Harry's approaching figure--the others she did not see.