CHAPTER XXVISpeaking of women, the way that we had been doing, just then, it was sort of queer, the interruption that we had. A ruction busted out not far away, and when I got out to the hall, I seen Harry Randal trying to pacify his grandfather, but the old man was wild.
“By God,” says he, “it’s a crime and a shame, and you planned it out to spoil my stay at your house—and you wanted to drive me away the quicker by putting me into this room. Damnation, I never heard of such a low trick. Look where I’ve been put!”
He goes back into the room, still jabbering, and I went along with him and Harry.
“It was the room of Stephen’s wife!” yells Henry Randal. “And I never could abide her, and you know it; and she never could abide me. Ain’t that her picture hanging there on the wall? But damn me
