CHAPTER 33At this Lord Nick very frankly frowned in turn. And when he frowned his face grew marvelously dark, like some wrathful god, for there was a noble, a Grecian purity to the profile of Henry Nicholas Reardon, and when he frowned he seemed to be scorning, from a distance, ignoble, earthly things which troubled him.
“I know it isn’t exactly easy for you, Garry,” he admitted. “You have your own pride; you have your own position here in The Corner. But I want you to notice that mine is different. You’ve spent a day for what you have in The Corner, here. I’ve spent ten years. You’ve played a prank, acted a part, and cast a jest for what you have. But for the place which I hold, brother mine, I’ve schemed with my wits, played fast and loose, and killed men. Do you hear? I’ve bought it wi
