"What right have you to question me like this ?" he demanded.
"But you would not take the price, after all," said Lot, as if he had been answered, instead of questioned.

Then he looked up at his cousin with something like kindness in his blue eyes.

"It proves the truth of what I've thought before," he said, "that oftentimes a man has to sting his own honor with his own deeds to know 'tis in him." "My honor is my own lookout," Burr said, harshly.
"And you've looked out for it better than I thought," Lot returned.
Burr made another motion towards the door.

"I can't stand here any longer," he said.

"I'll go for the deed." Margaret Bean, moving as softly as she could in her starched draperies, fled back to the kitchen.
"Wait a minute," Lot said.
"Well," returned Burr, impatiently.
Lot got up, went over to the mantel-shelf, and stood there a minute, leaning against it, his face hidden.