"What do you want me to do?" asked Adrian hopelessly, fully aware that he was in the power of this man and quite at a loss what course to pursue.
"What do I want you to do?" said Dentham jeeringly. "I want you to give me a cheque for two hundred straight off."
"And if I do that?" queried Adrian, fixing his eyes on Dentham's face.
"Well, I'll do my best to help you to get off," retorted Dentham with a silky smile.
"And suppose I refuse?"
"Oh, in that case, I'll go straight out and tell the police."
"Will you, indeed?" said Adrian with a grim smile, stroking his long grey beard. "And what about your warrant for my arrest?—you can't do it on suspicion."
"Now don't you try any larks on me," said Dentham in a bullying tone, "because I'm the only person who can help you out of this mess, and I won't unless you're civil."
"Oh, yes you will—for money," retorted his master coolly, "besides, I want first to be assured of the truth of your story."
Dentham was quite exasperated by the quiet tone in which the doctor spoke. He had expected to find a terrified man, who would give any sum to be placed in safety, instead of which, the proposed victim talked as calmly and sedately as if no terrible charge of murder was hanging over him.