"What annoys you?" he asked, with surprise.
"Tell me something of the story," said the other, regaining his
composure, and apparently wishing to affect indifference. "I have a
twinge of that damned rheumatism every now and then, and it makes me
rather crusty. Do you think her story is to be depended upon?"
"Yes, I believe it is."
And Waymark linked briefly the chief points of Ida's history, as he
knew it, the old man continually interrupting him with questions.
"Now go on," said Abraham, when he had heard all that Waymark knew,
"and explain the scrape she's got into."
Waymark did so.
"And you mean to tell me," Abraham said, before the story was quite
finished, "that there's been nothing more between you than that?"
"Absolutely nothing."
"I don't believe you."
It was said angrily, and with a blow of the clenched fist on the
table. The old man could no longer conceal the emotion that
possessed him. Waymark looked at him in astonishment, unable to
comprehend his behaviour.
"Well if you don't believe me, of course I can offer no proof; and I
know well enough that every presumption is against me. Still, I tell
you the plain fact; and what reason have I for hiding the truth? If
I had been living with the girl, I should have said so, as an extra
reason for asking your help in the matter.
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