He frowned slightly at her answer, and leaned forward with the note-book in his hand, his forefinger between the pages to keep the place.
"You do?" he demanded, his voice rising to a sharp note. Ford sat up again, watchful and angry. "You refuse, do you? Now, look here, Miss Harding, we 'll have to make an end of this."
Ford struck in crisply. "Good idea," he said. "I suggest Miss Harding might quit the room for that purpose, and leave you to explain to me what the devil you mean by this."
Van Zyl turned on him quickly. "You look out," he said. "If I 've got to arrest you to shut your mouth, I 'll do it—and quick too."
"Why not?" demanded Ford. "That 'll be as good a way for you to get the lesson you need as any other."
"You'll get a lesson," began Van Zyl, making as though to rise and put his threat into action.
"Oh, please," cried Margaret; "none of this is necessary. Sit down, Mr. Ford; please sit down and listen. Mr. Van Zyl, you have only to speak out and you will be free from further trouble, I 'm sure."
"I 've taken too much trouble as it is," retorted the sub-inspector. "I 'll have no more of it."
He glared with purpose at Ford. Though he had not at any moment doffed his formality of demeanor, the small scene had lit a spark in him and he was newly formidable and forceful. Ford met his look with the narrow smile with which a man of his type masks a rising temper, but so far yielded to Margaret's urgency as to lean back upon one elbow.
"You 'll be sorry for all this presently," Margaret said to him warningly.