I do not know why she is here, how long she intends staying, or what her purpose may be.

Indeed, there is only one fact I do know which may be of interest to you." Beaton, surprised by the language of the other, remained silent, his face turning purple, as a suspicion came to him that he was being made a fool of.
"It is this, my friend--who she is, what she is, and why she happens to be here, is none of your damn business, and if you so much as mention her name again in my presence you are going to regret it to your dying day.

That's all." Beaton, glancing about at the uplifted faces of the card-players, chose to assume an air of indifference, which scarcely accorded with the anger in his eyes.
"Ah, come now," he blurted forth, "I didn't mean anything; there's no harm done--let's have a drink, and be friends." Westcott shook his head.
"No, I think not," he said slowly.

"I'm not much of a drinking man myself, and when I do I choose my own company.

But let me tell you something, Beaton, for your own good.