"
"Where?" inquired Barnabas, glancing up hastily.
"Ssh! behind us--on the other side of the hedge--clever minx!"
"Why then--"
"Sit still, sir--hush, I say!"
"So that is the reason," said Cleone's clear voice, speaking within
a yard of them, "that is why you dislike Mr. Beverley?"
"Yes, and because of his presumption!" said a second voice, at the
sound of which Barnabas flushed and started angrily, whereupon the
Duchess instantly hooked him by the buttonhole again.
"His presumption in what, Mr. Chichester?"
"In his determined pursuit of you."
"Is he in pursuit of me?"
"Cleone--you know he is!"
"But how do you happen to know?"
"From his persecution of poor Ronald, for one thing."
"Persecution, sir?"
"It amounted to that. He found his way to Ronald's wretched lodging,
and tempted the poor fellow with his gold,--indeed almost commanded
Ronald to allow him to pay off his debts--"
"But Ronald refused, of course?" said Cleone quickly.
"Of course! I was there, you see, and this Beverley is a stranger!"
"A stranger--yes."
"And yet, Cleone, when your unfortunate brother refused his
money,--this utter stranger, this Good Samaritan,--actually went
behind Ronald's back and offered to buy up his debts! Such a thing
might be done by father for son, or brother for brother, but why
should any man do so much for an utter stranger--?"
"Either because he is very base, or very--noble!" said Cleone.
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