He didn't want to do it; he wished to get along without it, partly because of native inertia and an aversion to the mental nimbleness that he would be required to show as a law-breaker, partly because the word "black-mail" stood for what he did not dare suggest that he had come to, even to himself.

His distaste was genuine; there were certain things which he didn't want to commit, and extortion was one of them.

He could, at a pinch, lie to his wife, or try to scare her into giving him money; he could, when necessary, "borrow" from such men as Plank; but he had never cheated at cards, and he had never attempted to black-mail anybody except his wife--which, of course, was purely a family matter, and concerned nobody else.
Now he was attempting it again, with more sincerity, energy, and determination than he ever before had been forced to display.

Even in his most profane violence the rage and panic were only partly real.

He was, it is true, genuinely scared, and horribly shaken physically, but he had counted on violence, and he stimulated his own emotions and made them serve him, knowing all the while that in the reaction his ends would be accomplished, as usual.