"Huh!" he said, contemptuously. "I guess you're stuck on her,
eh?"
At the words, an instantaneous change swept over Garson.
Hitherto, he had been tense, his face set with emotion, a man
strong and sullen, with eyes as clear and heartless as those of a
beast in the wild. Now, without warning, a startling
transformation was wrought. His form stiffened to rigidity after
one lightning-swift step forward, and his face grayed. The eyes
glowed with the fires of a man's heart in a spasm of hate. He
was the embodiment of rage, as he spoke huskily, his voice a
whisper that was yet louder than any shout.
"Cut that!"
The eyes of the two men locked. Cassidy struggled with all his
pride against the dominant fury this man hurled on him.
"What?" he demanded, blusteringly. But his tone was weaker than
its wont.
"I mean," Garson repeated, and there was finality in his accents,
a deadly quality that was appalling, "I mean, cut it out--now,
here, and all the time! It don't go!" The voice rose slightly.
The effect of it was more penetrant than a scream.
Pages:
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156