Reginald Blake, who had turned his back on the artist, swung round with a dangerous expression in his dark eyes.
"I understand the situation perfectly, sir; you thought I was a young fool, who, having come into money, was simple enough to play the part of pigeon to your hawk."
Beaumont arose slowly from his chair at this insulting speech, and frowned ominously, while the woman hidden behind the door watched the pair in a cat-like manner, ready to intervene if she saw cause.
"You had better take care, my boy," said Beaumont deliberately. "I am your friend now, beware lest you make me your enemy."
"Do you think I care two straws for either your friendship or enmity?" replied Blake with supreme contempt, looking the artist up and down. "If so, you are mistaken--what can you do to harm me I should like to know?"
"Then you shall know--I can dispossess you of your wealth and leave you a pauper."
"Hardly--seeing I now know your true character and touch neither dice-box nor cards."
"It will require neither dice-box nor cards," replied Beaumont, wincing at this home thrust, "I can dispense with those aids--and I can reduce you to your former position of a pauper and stop your marriage."
Beaumont was stung to sudden fury by the young man's coolness, and lost his temper.
"You defy me!" he hissed, advancing towards Blake. "You dare to defy me, you pauper--you outcast--you bastard!"
In another moment Reginald had his hand upon Beaumont's throat, his face convulsed with rage, when suddenly Patience sprang forth from her hiding-place.
Blake's grip relaxed, and his arm fell by his side while Beaumont, staggering back, fell into the arm-chair and began mechanically to arrange his disordered necktie.
It was Reginald who spoke in a dull, slow voice, with his face ghastly pale and his eyes fixed upon the cowering form of the woman before him.
Patience tried to speak, but her tongue could not form the words, so Beaumont, with a devilish light in his eyes, answered for her.
The young man looked from one to the other in a dazed manner, then, with a gasping cry, staggered forward and seized Patience by the arm.
"Do you hear what this man says?" he said in a strained, unnatural voice. "That he is my father--that you are my mother! Is it true--tell me--is it true?"