"
"Ah!" It was like a snarl. The white teeth gleamed for a moment. "I had
no idea," Dinghra said, still with the same feverish rapidity, "that I
had a rival."
"Are we rivals?" said Rivington, amiably regretful. "It's the first I
have heard of it."
"You must have known!" The green glare suddenly began to flicker with a
ruddy tinge as of flame. "Every one knew that I was after her."
"Oh yes, I knew that," said Rivington. "But--pardon me if I fail to see
that that fact constitutes any rivalry between us. We were engaged long
before she met you. We have been engaged for years."
"For years!" Dinghra took a sudden step forward. He looked as if he were
about to spring at the Englishman's throat.
But Rivington remained quite unmoved, all unsuspecting, lounging on the
edge of the table.
"Yes, for years," he repeated. "But we have kept it to ourselves till
now. Even Lady Florence had no notion of it. There was nothing to be
gained by talking. It was a case of--" He dug his hands into his
trousers pockets and pulled them inside out with an eloquent gesture.
"So, of course, there was nothing for it but to wait."
"Then why have you published the engagement now?" demanded Dinghra.
Rivington smiled.
"Because we are tired of waiting," he said.
"You are in a position to marry, then? You are--"
"I am as poor as a church mouse, if you want to know," said Rivington.
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