He can get himself out of this mess, or he can stay in it." "You mean that you'll not lift a hand to help him." "Devil a finger," said O'Moy.
And Tremayne, looking straight into the adjutant's faintly smouldering blue eyes, beheld there a fierce and rancorous determination which he was at a loss to understand, but which he attributed to something outside his own knowledge that must lie between O'Moy and his brother-in-law.
"I am sorry," he said gravely.

"Since that is how you feel, it is to be hoped that Dick Butler may not survive to be taken.

The alternative would weigh so cruelly upon Una that I do not care to contemplate it." "And who the devil asks you to contemplate it ?" snapped O'Moy.

"I am not aware that it is any concern of yours at all." "My dear O'Moy!" It was an exclamation of protest, something between pain and indignation, under the stress of which Tremayne stepped entirely outside of the official relations that prevailed between himself and the adjutant.

And the exclamation was accompanied by such a look of dismay and wounded sensibilities that O'Moy, meeting this, and noting the honest manliness of Tremayne's bearing and countenance; was there and then the victim of reaction.