He was looking fixedly before him, his hand had dropped from Ralph's shoulder, his face was quite gray.
"Then," he said, slowly, as if waking out of a dream, "it was _not_ Carr." "No," said Sir George; "I never thought it was." "Good God!" ejaculated Charles, sinking into a low chair by the fire, and shading his face with his hand.

"Not Carr, after all!" But my indignation could not be restrained a moment longer.

I had only been kept silent by repeated signs from Marston, and now I broke out.
"And so, sir, you suspect my friend," I said, "and insult him in your father's house by turning the key on him.

You endeavor to throw suspicion on a man who never injured you in the slightest degree.

You insult _me_ in insulting my friend, sir.