I paused. “You forged the letter in my name. I have the proofs here;” and I took out the letter and held it up.
He burst into a loud scoffing laugh, the effort of which was obvious. “You must have lost your senses.” Even his voice was beginning to grow unsteady.
Having frightened him to this extent, I took a chance. It was certain of course that he must have carefully practised the copying of my handwriting before he forged the letter, so I glanced round significantly at his desk and said: “You are forgetting that you have not been in this room for more than thirty hours.”
It was an excellent bluff. He was scared right through. He changed colour, and the quick look which he shot involuntarily at the desk was instinct with fear. It was several seconds before he could recover himself sufficiently even to bluster.
“I’ll have no more of this,” he said with an oath and came toward me threateningly.
I knew him to be a wretched coward and was not in the least doubt that if he laid hands on me I could more than hold my own; so I let him come, my eyes fixed very steadily upon his. About two paces from me he stopped.
“Are you going?” he asked.
I made no answer and no movement.
“I’m in no mood to be trifled with.”
I let this go also without reply. I kept my eyes steadily on his face, and saw the struggle between his rage and his fear, and at one moment his rage all but won. His face set viciously and he tried to conceal his intention under an assumption of contempt.