"
Severne hung his head, and thought hard. Here was a new and wonderful
turn. He felt all manner of strange things--a pang of jealousy, for one.
He felt that, on every account, it would be wise to go, and, indeed,
dangerous to stay. But a mania is a mania, and so he could not. "Look
here, old fellow," he said, "if the opera were on to-morrow, I would
leave my three hundred behind me and sacrifice myself to you, sooner than
expose you to the fascinations of so captivating a woman as Ina
Klosking."
"Ina Klosking? Is that her name? How do _you_ know?"
"I--I--fancy I heard so."
"Why, she was not announced. Ina Klosking! It is a sweet name;" and he
sighed.
"But you are quite safe from her for one day," continued Severne, "so you
must be reasonable. I will go with you, Tuesday, as early as you like;
but do be a good fellow, and let me have the five hundred, to try my
system with to-morrow."
Vizard looked sad, and made no reply.
Severne got impatient. "Why, what is it to a rich fellow like you? If I
had twelve thousand acres in a ring fence, no friend would ask me twice
for such a trifling sum."
Vizard, for the first time, wore a supercilious smile at being so
misunderstood, and did not deign a reply.
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