"_Are_ you really?" he asked--and there was a touch of the comic in
hearing him put it with his inveterate gravity.
"If you take me for anything else," I replied, "I doubt if you'll find
anyone to back you."
My companion, on this, looked away for a little, turned about, fixed his
eyes on the house, seemed, as with a drop of interest, on the point of
leaving me. But instead of leaving me he brought out the next moment: "I
don't want anyone to back me. I don't care. I didn't mean just now," he
continued, "that Mrs. Server has said to me anything against you, or
that she fears you because she dislikes you. She only told me she
thought you disliked _her_."