‘Too late by the time I realised to what a dunderhead I’d pledged my friendship. Nor did he content himself with declaring his guiltlessness of the crime imputed to him, but began in his turn to menace his captor and accuser, loading the latter with the bitterest upbraidings. Why shouldn’t we be martyrs? There’s nothing else for most of us, anyhow. ’ ‘The what, miss?’ asked Kimble, frowning. He had “put his foot down,” and said she must not go. Some shadow of reserve seemed to have crept up between them. He was indeed still in the throes of his bewilderment.
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