"It is false."
"It may be. It is but a surmise. But, as such, it is at least as much likely to be correct as yours."
"She is dead."
"You have not one jot or tittle of proof that she is anything of the kind."
"I will have proof." He brought down his fist upon my pretty, fragile table with a crash. "I will have proof."
"Don't destroy the furniture."
"Furniture!" He glared at the inoffensive table as if he would have liked to have chopped it into firewood. "You should not anger me. I say that I will have proof. And I will have proof of who it is has murdered her. And I will find him, though he hides himself in the uttermost corners of the earth. And when I have found him I will have a quittance."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Do you not know what I mean? Have you known me so short a time that you should need to ask?"
"Do you mean that, if there is anything in these wild dreams of yours, you will kill the man who has killed your girl?"