I shall
shoot him on sight and chance the consequences."
"They'll hang you!" she declared savagely.
He laughed at her.
"Hang me for shooting a man whom I can prove to be a German spy?
They won't dare! They won't even dare to place me under arrest for
an hour. Why, when the truth becomes known," he went on, his
voice gaining courage as the justice of his case impressed itself
upon him, "what do you suppose is going to happen to two women who
took this fellow in and befriended him, introduced him under a
false name to their friends, gave him the run of their house--this
man whom they knew all the time was a German? You, Lady Cranston,
chafing and scolding your husband by night and by day because he
isn't where you think he ought to be; you, so patriotic that you
cannot bear the sight of him out of uniform; you--the hostess,
the befriender, the God knows what of Bertram Maderstrom! It will
be a pretty tale when it's all told!"
"I really think," Philippa asserted calmly, "that you are the most
utterly impossible and obnoxious creature I have ever met."
His face was dangerous for a moment. They had not yet reached the
promontory which sheltered them from Dreymarsh.
"Perhaps," he muttered, leaning malignly towards her, "I could make
myself even more obnoxious."
"Quite possibly," she replied, "only I want to tell you this.
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