"And so," Guion concluded, "I don't see how I could accept this money from you. Any honorable man—that is," he corrected, in some confusion, "any sane man—would tell you as much."
"I've already considered what the sane man and the honorable man would tell me. I guess I can let them stick to their opinion so long as I have my own."
"And what is your opinion? Do you mind telling me? You understand that what you're proposing is immoral, don't you?"
"Yes—in a way."
Guion frowned. He had hoped for some pretense at contradiction.
"I didn't know whether you'd thought of that."
"Oh yes, I've thought of it. That is, I see what you mean."
"It's compounding a felony and outwitting the ends of justice and—"
"I guess I'll do it just the same. It doesn't seem to be my special job to look after the ends of justice; and as for compounding a felony—well, it'll be something new."
Guion made a show of looking at him sharply. The effort, or the pretended effort, to see through Davenant's game disguised for the moment his sense of humiliation at this prompt acceptance of his own statement of the case.