Sit down.

Yes; I've come.

You didn't expect to see me.

You thought you had got rid of me?
Well, I'm going right enough; but I wanted a word or two with you first." Lord Heyton dropped back into the chair and, covertly wiping the sweat from his face, which was white now, glanced from Dene to the fire, then back again; but his eyes could get no higher than Dene's waistcoat.
"I--I suppose you've come to kick up a row, to bully me ?" he said, sullenly.
"Not at all," retorted Dene, coolly.

"If I had wanted to kick up a row, to bully you--in other words, to round on you and show you up, I should have come before, the moment I knew how you had--sold me.