"Nothing that you can say to me, Mr. Vavasor, will have any effect upon me;—except that you can, of course, annoy me."
"And I mean to annoy you, too, before I have done with you. Will you fight me?"
"Fight a duel with you,—with pistols? Certainly not."
"Then you are a coward, as I supposed."
"I should be a fool if I were to do such a thing as that."
"Look here, Mr. Grey. You managed to worm yourself into an intimacy with my cousin, Miss Vavasor, and to become engaged to her. When she found out what you were, how paltry, and mean, and vile, she changed her mind, and bade you leave her."
"Are you here at her request?"
"I am here as her representative."
"Self-appointed, I think."
"Then, sir, you think wrong. I am at this moment her affianced husband; and I find that, in spite of all that she has said to you,—which was enough, I should have thought, to keep any man of spirit out of her presence,—you still persecute her by going to her house, and forcing yourself upon her presence. Now, I give you two alternatives. You shall either give me your written promise never to go near her again, or you shall fight me."