“Yes.”
“Anything else?”
“Yes. Who is named as co-respondent? And will there be a defense, or a counter-suit?”
“A counter-suit,” repeated the man in the saddle quietly. “I wonder if you realize what you’re asking?”
“I’m trying to get the news,” said Banneker doggedly striving to hold to an ideal which momentarily grew more sordid and tawdry.
“And I wonder if you realize how you ought to be answered.”
Yes; Banneker realized, with a sick realization. But he was not going to admit it. He kept silence.
“If this polo mallet were a whip, now,” observed Mr. Densmore meditatively. “A dog-whip, for preference.”
Under the shameful threat Banneker’s eyes lightened. Here at least was something he could face like a man. His undermining nausea mitigated.
“What then?” he inquired in tones as level as those of his opponent.