“To get nearer to God.”
“Well—I can’t say I want to get nearer to God. It’s little he’s ever done for me.”
“It’s a good deal he has tried to do for you, my lord.”
“Well, who interfered? Who stood in his way, then?”
“Yourself, my lord.”
“I wasn’t aware of it. When did he ever try to do anything for me, and I stood in his way?”
“When he gave you one of the loveliest of women, my lord,” said Mr Graham, with solemn, faltering voice, “and you left her to die in neglect, and the child to be brought up by strangers.”
The marquis gave a cry. The unexpected answer had roused the slowly gnawing death, and made it bite deeper.
“What have you to do,” he almost screamed, “with my affairs? It was for me to introduce what I chose of them. You presume.”
“Pardon me, my lord: you led me to what I was bound to say. Shall I leave you, my lord?”