"Think a moment," he said sorrowfully. "This is pretty serious, you see.
Are you absolutely sure that you carried over nothing at all?"
"In the sight of God, I did not. But let me tell you, my friend--"
A chair-leg scraped on the carpeted floor, and Queed was standing,
playing his trump card with a grim face.
"We must say good-by, Professor--now. I'll send for my things in the
morning."
"What do you mean, you--"
"That you and I part company to-night. Good-by."
"Stop!" cried Surface. He rose, greatly excited and leaned over the
table. A faint flush drove the yellow from his cheek; his eyes were
blazing. He shook a menacing finger at close range in Queed's face,
which remained entirely unmoved by the demonstration.
"So this is the reward of my kindness and affection! I won't endure it,
do you understand? I won't be kicked into the gutter like an old shoe,
do you hear? Sit down in that chair. I forbid you to leave the house."
Queed's gaze was more formidable than his own. "Mr. Surface," he said,
in a peculiarly quiet voice, "you forget yourself strangely. You are in
no position to speak to me like this.
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