“I am to understand, then, I conclude,” I said, and with a manner, I do believe, of helpless conviction, “that, if I give you away, I may expect to be given away myself?” He laughed. “You put it with a boyish crudeness; but the method has its fascinations. Why not, rather, call it a little family understanding, Richard? We are all in the same boat; we all have our crying needs of the moment. Yes, call it that; and our family motto--_Vive et vivas_.” “Well, you must give me a little time,” I said. “This comes as rather a shock on one, you see?” “Time!” he cried--“time, if you wish it, to indite fifty immortal sonnets to your mistress’s eyebrow. I am never in a hurry, my dear fellow. Let the thought germinate and take root at its leisure. What a charming retreat, to be sure. And you live here all alone?” “Yes, all alone.” “Not even an Abigail to minister the needs?--but of course not, in our present transcendent altitudes. I wonder if I might pry a bit?” Should I let him? I thought how during all this interview the door giving into the kitchen had stood ajar; I recalled how, even before the fact of his presence in the room had been borne in upon me, all sound of Geoletti’s movements hard by had suddenly ceased. I pictured a deadly figure crouching behind the door, saw a mincing step pass on and in, heard a sudden wild-beast snarl and rush, and then a scream, my God, freezing one’s blood--and for one instant I was half minded to bid him on his way, and end thus swiftly at a blow the story of his villainies. It was a ghastly temptation--almost paralysing in its suddenness. I had even stirred involuntarily to make way for him, when the thought that not vengeance, but retribution, was to be the first exaction, came to save me. I put my hand across my forehead, and felt it wet. For a moment I could not command my voice. If my agitation was obvious, however, he could find his own reasons to account for it. No doubt he was pluming himself, the blind fool, on his unnerving conquest of a boy. “I’d rather, if you don’t mind,” I said at length, “be left to myself just now. You’ve a bit upset me, as you may guess, and I’m not quite in the mood to play cicerone.” “Why, of course,” he rejoined at once and cheerily. “It was inconsiderate of me. Bye-bye, then, till we meet again, my dear boy. No, don’t trouble; I can find my own way out,” and he went, smiling, and waving his hand back to me, and humming a pleasant tune. The moment he was well gone, I stepped swiftly to the kitchen door, and stood to obstruct its passage. But the precaution was unnecessary. No sound or movement came from within.