"I think you heard me say so. I have come here direct from Mr. Tombe's chambers. He is your lawyer, I believe?"
"He is so."
"And I have come from him to ask you what interference you have lately taken in my money matters. When you have answered that, I shall have other questions to ask you."
"But, Mr. Vavasor, has it occurred to you that I may not be disposed to answer questions so asked?"
"It has not occurred to me to think that you will prevaricate. If there has been no such interference, I will ask your pardon, and go away; but if there has been such interference on your part, I have a right to demand that you shall explain to me its nature."
Grey had now made up his mind that it would be better that he should tell the whole story,—better not only for himself, but for all the Vavasors, including this angry man himself. The angry man evidently knew something, and it would be better that he should know the truth. "There has been such interference, Mr. Vavasor, if you choose to call it so. Money, to the extent of two thousand pounds, I think, has by my directions been paid to your credit by Mr. Tombe."
"Well," said Vavasor, taking his right hand away from his waistcoat, and tapping the round table with his fingers impatiently.
"I hardly know how to explain all the circumstances under which this has been done."
"I dare say not; but, nevertheless, you must explain them."
Grey was a man tranquil in temperament, very little prone to quarrelling, with perhaps an exaggerated idea of the evil results of a row,—a man who would take infinite trouble to avoid any such scene as that which now seemed to be imminent; but he was a man whose courage was quite as high as that of his opponent. To bully or be bullied were alike contrary to his nature. It was clear enough now that Vavasor intended to bully him, and he made up his mind at once that if the quarrel were forced upon him it should find him ready to take his own part. "My difficulty in explaining it comes from consideration for you," he said.