"
Since the first moments after she had begun to voice her experiences,
and what he called her merciless philosophy, he had crumpled down in his
chair, and when she had sprung up, he had risen perfunctorily and
wearily to his feet, but at her last words he had straightened up as if
involuntarily every muscle grew tense, an outward and visible indication
of his mental attitude. Inherited and traditional pride was in the
haughty and surprised uplift of his head; a bright flush had risen on
his cheek and his eyes sparkled with a thousand wounded and angry
reflections.
Whether or not she had intended to produce this effect by her words,
she was undaunted by it, and went on: "Jose tells me that you got a big
place in England, just waiting for you to come and claim it, and you
quit it and everything there because a girl turned you down. It was sure
a baby act."
"I--" he began to interrupt her. There were few men who would have cared
to ignore that chilled steel quality of Seagreave's voice or, for the
matter of that, the chilled steel look on his face.
But there were certain emotions the Pearl had never known, and they
included remorse and fear. "I ain't finished yet," the gesture with
which she imposed his silence held her accustomed languor. "I got to say
that the man--that's you--that fought all through the Boer war was no
shirker, and the man who did some of the things you did in India--you
got some kind of a medal, didn't you?--what was it Jose called
you?--soldier of fortune--well, you weren't a quitter, anyway.
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