Ferrol's
fingers tightened, pressed inwards.
"Now, see, I know what you mean. Some one has robbed Nicolas Lavilette
of five thousand dollars. You dare to charge me with it, curse you. Let
me see if there's any more lies on your tongue!"
With the violence of the pressure Shangois's tongue was forced out of his
mouth.
Suddenly a paroxysm of coughing seized Ferrol, and he let go and
staggered back against the window ledge. Shangois was transformed--an
animal. No human being had ever seen him as he was at this moment. The
fingers of his one hand opened and shut convulsively, his arms worked up
and down, his face twitched, his teeth showed like a beast's as he glared
at Ferrol. He looked as though he were about to spring upon the now
helpless man. But up from the garden below there came the sound of a
voice--Christine's--singing.
His face quieted, and his body came to its natural pose again, though his
eyes retained an active malice. He turned to go.
"Remember what I tell you," said Ferrol: "if you publish that lie, you'll
not live to hear it go about. I mean what I say." Blood showed upon his
lips, and a tiny little stream flowed down the corner of his mouth.
Pages:
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66