Page:The Whisper on the Stair by Lyon Mearson (1924).djvu/262

 “All right, sir,” said Eddie, putting on his hat with care and deliberation, and standing up.

“I was just about to suggest it,” came from Teck, amazingly. He stood in the center of the room, his hands characteristically in his pockets, lounging nonchalantly in front of them. “Understand me, Morley—if I had any particular reason for detaining you you would stay just as long as I wish you to stay—but you’re out of this game for good, anyway—and if you’ll take a little friendly advice, you’ll leave for the North the first thing in the morning.”

“I’m out of the game for good!” echoed Val. “Why, how did you get any such fool idea?” He stared at him in wonderment.

The other gave him back look for look, and for a moment neither spoke in words, but there was much that lay between them that was said in their eyes, in the lines around their mouths, and in their attitudes. It was Teck who spoke first.

“Miss Pomeroy has finally sent you away. You told me yourself that you would be here until she sent you away—and she has done so. That should be sufficient⸺”

“It would be sufficient, Iggy,” came back Val, and his voice was flinty. “It would be sufficient—if she had. But it was not she who sent me away—it was you. It was you, speaking with her lips⸺”

Teck interrupted him with a laugh of mirth. “Oh, my Lord!” he said in evident enjoyment. “The kindergarten class in mesmerism will please stand up! Is that your regular line of nonsense, Morley—or do you reserve it for special occasions, like this?”

“Laugh if you like, Iggy—but you won’t be laughing long. I’m in this game for keeps—and if I go it