"But what I say is, I've got something
to tell you two. I've written it all down and I thought to post it to
ye. But after I'd written it I says to myself, 'I'll tell 'em face to
face or I'll die for it.'"
"Is it about that money?" Rachel inquired.
"Aye!"
"Then Mr. Batchgrew did write and tell you about it. Won't you take
that great, thick overcoat off?"
Julian jumped up as if in fury, pulled off the overcoat with violent
gestures, and threw in on the Chesterfield. Then he sat down again,
and, sticking out his chin, stared inimically at Louis.
Louis' throat was now so tight that he was nervously obliged to make
the motion of swallowing. He could look neither at Rachel nor at
Julian. He was nonplussed. He knew not what to expect nor what
he feared. He could not even be sure that what he feared was an
accusation. "I am safe. I am safe," he tried to repeat to himself,
deeply convinced, nevertheless, against his reason, that he was not
safe. The whole scene, every aspect of it, baffled and inexpressibly
dismayed him.
Julian still stared, with mouth open, threatening. Then he slapped his
knee.
"Nay!" said he. "I shall read it to ye." And he drew some sheets of
foolscap from his pocket.
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