'Why, you infernal young scoundrel!' he said angrily, 'that letter is nothing but a simple note from a young girl to an old friend--playmate asking him to come to see her about some trivial thing.

And you construe it into a proposal of marriage.

You hound!' He held the letter whilst he spoke, heedless of the outstretched hand of the other waiting to take it back.

There was a dangerous glitter in Leonard's eyes.

He knew his man and he knew the truth of what he had himself said, and he felt, with all the strength of his base soul, how best he could torture him.