"I might turn out to be the cornered-rat type," I told him seriously. "So play it cagey, Phelps."
"Scholar Phelps, please."
"I wouldn't disgrace the medical profession," I told him. "So—"
"So what do you propose to do about this?"
"I'm getting out."
"Don't be ridiculous. One step out of this building and you'll return within a half minute. How did you get out?"
"I was seduced out. Now—"
"I'd advise you to surrender; to stop this hopeless attempt; to put that weapon down. You cannot escape. There are, in this building, your mental and intellectual superiors whose incarceration bear me witness."
I eyed him coldly and quietly. "I'm not convinced. I'm out. And if you could take a dig below you'd see a dead man and an unconscious woman to bear me witness. I broke your Dr. Thorndyke's neck with a chop of my bare hand, Phelps; I knocked Catherine cold with a fist. This thing might not kill you, but I'm a Mekstrom, too, and so help me I can cool you down but good."
"Violence will get you nothing."