"'You were blackmailed too for a disgusting letter you wrote my son,' he went on.
"'I don't know who has been telling you all these silly stories,' I replied, 'but they are untrue and quite ridiculous.'
"He ended up by saying that if he caught me and his son together again he would thrash me.
"'I don't know what the Queensberry rules are,' I retorted, 'but my rule is to shoot at sight in case of personal violence,' and with that I told him to leave my house."
"Of course he defied you?" I questioned.
"He was rude, Frank, and preposterous to the end."
As Oscar was telling me the story, it seemed to me as if another person were speaking through his mouth. The idea of Oscar "standing up" to Queensberry or "shooting at sight" was too absurd. Who was inspiring him? Alfred Douglas?
"What has happened since?" I enquired.
"Nothing," he replied, "perhaps he will be quiet now. Bosie has written him a terrible letter; he must see now that, if he goes on, he will only injure his own flesh and blood."
"That won't stop him," I replied, "if I read him aright. But if I could see what Alfred Douglas wrote, I should be better able to judge of the effect it will have on Queensberry."