"If you will allow me, I have the key," said Grey. Then they both entered the house, and Vavasor followed his host up-stairs. Mr. Grey, as he went up, felt almost angry with himself in having admitted his enemy into his lodgings. He was sure that no good could come of it, and remembered, when it was too late, that he might easily have saved himself from giving the invitation while he was still in the street. There they were, however, together in the sitting-room, and Grey had nothing to do but to listen. "Will you take a chair, Mr. Vavasor?" he said. "No," said Vavasor; "I will stand up." And he stood up, holding his hat behind his back with his left hand, with his right leg forward, and the thumb of his right hand in his waistcoat-pocket. He looked full into Grey's face, and Grey looked full into his; and as he looked the great cicatrice seemed to open itself and to become purple with fresh blood stains.

Mr. Grey unlocked the door of his house, and Vavasor followed him upstairs. Mr. Grey felt almost angry with himself for admitting his enemy. He was sure that no good could come of it. There they were, however, together in the sitting-room.
"Will you take a chair, Mr. Vavasor?" he said.
"No," said Vavasor; "I will stand."
And he stood up, holding his hat behind his back, and looked full into Grey's face; and the great scar seemed to open itself and become purple with fresh blood stains.
