"Probably you don't wish to help them. Well, you can do as you please about it. If you choose to get him and yourself into difficulty, I suppose nothing I can say will have any influence with you."
"I don't want to get into trouble, or to spend any money in going to law."
"I should judge, from the appearance of your house, that you hadn't much to spend in that way," sneered the banker.
"I have not, indeed. I said all I could to dissuade Fitz from doing anything about the matter; but he is bent upon it. He has been to see Mr. Choate about it."
"To see Mr. Choate!" exclaimed the banker, springing out of his chair; and now his face was deadly pale.
But in an instant Mr. Checkynshaw was conscious that he was revealing the weakness of his position, and he sat down in his chair again, with a placid smile upon his face.
"Am I to understand that Fitz and you intend to fight me in the law upon this matter?" demanded he, with a sardonic grin on his face, indicating both fear and malice.
"Fitz says there will be no fighting about it. We are to bring a suit to recover the property, according to the terms of my father's will, with the income for ten years."
"Fitz says so—does he?"
"He thinks Marguerite died when your present wife had the cholera. He says all you have to do is to produce the child. If you do, that will be the end of it; if not, the property certainly belongs to us."