"'I don't know what you mean!' he broke out. 'I don't know what you're driving at, mad or not. . . . The moment we crossed one another I hated you--Yes, damn you, first impressions are truest after all! Later, I was weak enough, thinking I'd injured you, to--to--' He broke down feebly. 'What sort of devil are you?' he demanded, mopping his forehead. 'You can't hurt me, I say. What is it you threaten?' "'Only this,' said I. 'You have been a married man for a number of years, and therefore can probably appreciate better than I what it means. But you know my feeling for you, as I know yours towards me. . . . Well, I propose to be your companion in this world and until death do us part. . . . You may dodge, but I shall be faithful; you may slip, run, elude, but I shall quest. But your shadow I am going to be, Mr. Farrell; and ever, when you have hit a place in the sun, it shall be to start and find me--a faithful hound at your side. I have put the fear on you, I see. Waking or sleeping you shall never put that fear off. . . . And now,' said I, rising and tapping another cigarette on my case, 'let me steer you back to the railway-station. You will prefer to dine alone to-night and think out your plans. I shall be thinking out mine at the _Ambassadeurs_.'" "So that's how it happened, Roddy. You might post me 100 pounds to the Grand Hotel, Biarritz: for I'm running short. The hunt is up, and he's breaking for South." "J. F." NIGHT THE ELEVENTH. SCIENCE OF THE CHASE. I'm an imperfect Christian: but I read Jack's long letter three times over, and at each reading I liked it the less. Before posting an answer I handed the thing to Jimmy; who spent a morning over it, helping himself--a sure sign of a troubled spirit--to tobacco indifferently from his own jar and mine. When nothing troubled him-- that is to say, as a rule--he invariably used mine. I left him ruminating; went out, did some business, and met him again at our usual luncheon-table at the Bath Club. "I believe," said Jimmy reflectively at luncheon, "that my way with Farrell was the better, after all. . . . You'll admit that it did the trick, and without causing any offence to anybody. Well, if you ask me how to deal with the Professor, I'll be equally practical. Starve him off." "No good," said I. "If I cut off supply, he'll only come back, demand his money and be off on the trail again. Indeed, he may turn up in these rooms to-morrow: for it's ten to one, on my reckoning, that Farrell will pretty soon break back for home." "All the easier, then," said Jimmy. "Save you the trouble of writing a letter. When he comes for his money, tell him you're freezing on to it."