There's another one--more piquant, you know--ha, ha!--a devoted lover--saved her life--quite devoted--and she sits and accepts his attentions.

Yet she's seen me, and knows that I'm watching her.

Don't she know _me_?
Does she want any further proof of what I am ready to do?
The ruins of Dacres Grange should serve her for life.

She tempts fate when she carries on her gallantries and her Italian cicisbeism under the eyes of Scone Dacres.
It'll end bad.

By Heaven, it will!" Scone Dacres breathed hard, and, raising his head, turned upon Hawbury a pair of eyes whose glow seemed of fire.
"Bad!" he repeated, crashing his fist on the table.