Antonia propped her chin in her hands and frowned. “I wish I could remember what I said in the ghoulish Police Station,” she said. “I almost wish I hadn't burned the letter, too. Because you seem to think it was frightfully important, and as a matter of fact it wasn't. It was just a general hate against Rudolph.”
“No specific charge?”
“No. He just ran through Roget's Thesaurus for synonyms of Scoundrel, and put them all into the letter.”
“You say that there was no specific charge, Miss Vereker, but does a business man like your half-brother threaten to take legal proceedings against another man without any definite reason?”
“The whole point is, did he mean it, or was he merely waffling?” Antonia said, off her guard. “That's what I want to find out.” She broke off and flushed angrily. “Damm, you don't play fair!”
“I'm not playing, Miss Vereker.”
She looked up quickly, for there was a hint of sternness in his voice. Before she had time to speak, he went on: “Arnold Vereker wrote to you forbidding your engagement to Mesurier. According to you, he gave no definite reason for this. But you have admitted that he threatened to prosecute Mesurier for some offence or other, and you have also admitted that his letter made you exceedingly angry.
“Of course it did!” she said impatiently. “It would make anybody angry!”
“I expect so. Perhaps it may also have alarmed you?”
“No, why should it? I wasn't afraid of Arnold.”