Suddenly, he decided on a new plan of action, and resolved to let the man say what he chose. Dearly as he would have liked to wreak physical vengeance on him, he felt that such a proceeding offered the least satisfactory way out of a situation fraught with no small risk of publicity. Marigny must have had some all-powerful motive in sending for him; better learn that before his bitter and contemptuous words sealed an adversary’s lips.
“Won’t you sit down?” came the urbane request.
“I prefer standing, if you don’t mind,” said Medenham curtly; then he added, after a little pause:
“It may clear the atmosphere somewhat if I tell you that I threatened you at Bristol merely because a certain issue had to be determined within a few seconds. That consideration does not apply now. You are at liberty to say what you like without fear of consequences.”
The Frenchman elevated his eyebrows.
“Fear?” he said.
“Oh, don’t bandy words with me. You know what I mean. I suppose a man must possess courage of a sort even to become a blackmailer, which is what you threaten to develop into. At any rate, I promise to keep my hands off you, if that is what you want.”
“Not exactly,” was the quiet answer. “One may draw distinctions, even in that regard, but I do wish for an opportunity to discuss our quarrel without an appeal to brute force.”
“In other words,” said Medenham sternly, “you want to be free to say something which under ordinary conditions would earn you a thrashing. Well—say it!”