Sir Eustace held him a few seconds as if irresolute, then abruptly let him go. "I believe you're right," he said. "You wouldn't care a damn. But you're a fool to bait me all the same. Now clear out, and leave me alone for the future!" "I haven't done with you yet," Scott said. He straightened himself, and returned indomitably to the attack. "I asked you a question, and--so far--you haven't answered it. Are you ashamed to answer it?" Sir Eustace got up with a movement of exasperation, but very oddly his anger had died down. "Oh, confound you, Stumpy! You're worse than a swarm of mosquitoes!" he said. "I dispute your right to ask that question. It is no affair of yours." "I maintain that it is," Scott said quietly. "It matters to me--perhaps more than you realize--whether you behave honourably or otherwise." "Honourably!" His brother caught him up sharply. "You're on dangerous ground, I warn you," he said. "I won't stand that from you or any man." "I've no intention of insulting you," Scott answered. "But I must know the truth. Are you hoping to marry Miss Bathurst, or are you not?" Sir Eustace drew himself up with a haughty gesture. "The time has not come to talk of that," he said. "Not when you are deliberately making love to her?" Scott's voice remained quiet, but the glitter was in his eyes again--a quivering, ominous gleam. "Oh, that! My dear fellow, you are disquieting yourself in vain. She knows as well as I do that that is a mere game." Eustace spoke scoffingly, looking over his brother's head, ignoring his attitude. "I assure you she is not so green as you imagine," he said. "It has been nothing but a game all through." "Nothing but a game!" Scott repeated the words slowly as if incredulous. "Do you actually mean that?" Sir Eustace laughed and took out his cigarettes. "What do you take me for, you old duffer? Think I should commit myself at this stage? An old hand like me! Not likely!" Scott stood up before him, white to the lips. "I take you for an infernal blackguard, if you want to know!" he said, speaking with great distinctness. "You may call yourself a man of honour. I call you a scoundrel!" "What?" Eustace put back his cigarette-case with a smile that was oddly like a snarl. "It looks to me as if you'll have to have that lesson after all," he said. "What's the matter with you now-a-days? Fallen in love yourself? Is that it?" He took Scott by the shoulders, not roughly, but with power. Scott's eyes met his like a sword in a master-hand. "The matter is," he said, "that this precious game of yours has got to end. If you are not man enough to end it--I will." "Will you indeed?" Eustace shook him to and fro as he stood, but still without violence. "And how?" "I shall tell her," Scott spoke without the smallest hesitation, "the exact truth. I shall tell her--and she will believe me--precisely what you are." "Damn you!" said Sir Eustace.