it is the impunity with which her agents deceive her—in this case, for instance, of Dillon’s injury. Dr. Disbrow, who is NIr. Truscomb’s brother-in-law, and apt to be influenced by his views, assures you that the man will get off with the loss of a finger; but some one equally competent to speak told me last night that he would lose not only his hand but his arm.”
Amherst’s voice had swelled to a deep note of anger, and with his tossed hair, and eyes darkening under furrowed brows, he presented an image of revolutionary violence which deepened the disdain on Mr. Tredegar’s lip.
“Some one equally competent to speak? Are you prepared to name this anonymous authority?”
Amherst hesitated. “No—I shall have to ask you to take my word for it,” he returned with a shade of embarrassment.
“Ah—” Mr. Tredegar murmured, giving to the expressive syllable its utmost measure of decent exultation.
Amherst quivered under the thin lash, and broke out: “It is all you have required of Dr. Disbrow—” but at this point Mr. Tredegar rose to his feet.
“My dear sir, your resorting to such arguments convinces me that nothing is to be gained by prolonging our talk. I will not even take up your insinuations against two of the most respected men in the community—such charges reflect only on those who make them.”
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