Absorbed in his own affairs, he had completely forgotten that
he was speaking to the owner of the unlucky horse.
Leroy was pale with anger; the reference to the race annoyed him, but
still more the expression of "curmudgeon" as applied to his father.
Naturally, if he had stopped to consider, he would have realised that
there must be some mistake; for Standon would hardly have spoken thus of
Lord Barminster in his son's presence. But what lover ever does use his
common sense? He drew himself up sternly, and Standon could have kicked
himself for his unfortunate speech.
"I don't mean--that is--it's not your fault----" he stammered.
"Thank you," said Leroy ironically.
"Oh, you know what I mean. Don't pull me up like that, Adrien. I wasn't
thinking of its being you--and you know what it is when a fellow's in
love with the sweetest, dearest----"
Leroy turned sharply. It was more than any one could be expected to
bear; insult to his father, blame to his horse, and now praise of the
woman he himself loved.
"Excuse me, Standon," he interrupted curtly, "I'm afraid I must ask you
to spare me your rhapsodies--I am due at the theatre.
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