"Until you give the word."
"And supposing we never give the word?" Stanley Rees demanded.
"Then you sit there," Wingate replied, "until you die."
Dredlinton glanced covertly across at Phipps, and, finding no inspiration there, turned to Wingate. The light of an evil imagining shone in his eyes.
"This is a matter which we ought to discuss in private conference," he said slowly. "What do you think, Phipps?"
"I agree—"
"I am afraid," Wingate interrupted suavely, "that Mr. Phipps' views will not affect the situation. You three gentlemen are my treasured and honoured guests. I shall not desert you—as a matter of fact, I shall scarcely leave you, except upon your own business—until your decision is made."
"Guests be damned!" Dredlinton exclaimed. "It's my house—not yours!"
"Mine for a short time by appropriation," Wingate answered, with a faint smile.
"Supposing," Rees suggested, "we were induced to knuckle under, to become the victims of your damned blackmailing scheme, surely then one of us would be allowed to go down to the City on parole, eh?"