As he turned towards the exit of the station, he saw Denzil, and
he came forward.
"I think you've won, mon petit chien," he said with vindictiveness, "but
my poll comes to-morrow night, and I shall win."
"No game is won till it's all played, m'sieu', and this innings is mine!"
"I am fighting a bigger man than you, wasp," snarled Barouche.
"As big as yourself and bigger, m'sieu'," said Denzil with a smile.
There was that in his tone which made Barouche regard him closely. He
saw there was no real knowledge of the relationship of Carnac and himself
in Denzil's eyes; but he held out his hand with imitation courtesy, as
though to say good-bye.
"Give me a love-clasp, spider," he said with a kind of sneer. "I'd like
your love as I travel to triumph." A light of hatred came into Denzil's
eyes. "Beetledog--wasp--spider" he had been called by this big man--
well, he should see that the wasp could give as good as it got. His
big gnarled hand enclosed the hand of Barode Barouche, then he suddenly
closed on it tight. He closed on it till he felt it crunching in his own
and saw that the face of Barode Barouche was like that of one in a chair
of torture. He squeezed, till from Barouche's lips came a gasp of agony,
and then he let go.
"You've had my love-clasp, m'sieu'," Denzil said with meaning, "and when
you want it again let me know. It's what M'sieu' Carnac will do with you
to-morrow night.
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