The young man laughed contemptuously. He was tall, but slightly
built, and had delicate hands.

"So you've turned out a blackguard, have you?" pursued his
companion, whose name was Dengate. "I heard something about that."

"From whom?"

"You drink, I am told. I suppose that's your condition now."

"Well, no; not just now," answered Hilliard. He spoke the language
of an educated man, but with a trace of the Midland accent.
Dengate's speech had less refinement.

"What do you mean by your insulting talk, then? I spoke to you
civilly."

"And I answered as I thought fit."

The respectable citizen sat with his hands on his knees, and
scrutinised the other's sallow features.

"You've been drinking, I can see. I had something to say to you, but
I'd better leave it for another time."

Hilliard flashed a look of scorn, and said sternly--

"I am as sober as you are."

"Then just give me civil answers to civil questions."