Crofter evidently was expecting to be the recipient of an outburst of effusive gratitude.

I had not the courage to disabuse him.
He walked pleasantly and graciously into his study, where Tempest stood, flushing and biting his lips, awaiting him.

"Is this true what that youngster says, that you've had the--that you've paid bills of mine ?" "I'm sorry he told you, Tempest.

I thought it might get you out of a difficulty, and I--" "And you expect me to thank you! Take that, for daring to meddle in my affairs!" And he struck Crofter on the cheek--not a hard blow, but one which sent the recipient reeling across the room with astonishment.
For a moment I expected a fight.

Crofter, however, pale, but smiling still, declined the challenge.
"You'll be sorry, I'm sure," said he, as coolly as he could.