You say you do not care for me, and I have nothing to gain by telling you this.

If he has--" "Mr Scarfe, you are quite mistaken; do, please, let me go." Scarfe yielded, bitterly mortified and perplexed.

His vanity had all along only supposed one possible obstacle to his success with Raby, and that was a rival.

That she would decline to have him for any other reason had been quite beyond his calculations, and he would not believe it now.
Jeffreys may not have actually gone as far as to propose to her, but, so it seemed, there was some understanding between them which barred Scarfe's own chance.

The worst of it all was that to do the one thing he would have liked to do would be to spoil his own chance altogether.
For Raby, whether she cared for Jeffreys or not, would have nothing to say to Scarfe if he was the means of his ruin.
The air during the next few days seemed charged with thunder.