"No, you think I don't know much.

But men like you and Quarrier will damn soon find out! I want you to understand," he went on excitedly, forgetting the instinctive caution which in saner moments he was only too certain that his present business required--"I want you to understand a few things, my friend, and one of them is that I'm not afraid of Quarrier, and another is, I'm not afraid of you!" "Leroy--" "No, not afraid of you, either!" repeated Mortimer with an ugly stare.
"Don't try any of your smug, aint-it-a-shame-he-drinks ways on me, Beverly! I'm getting tired of it; I'm tired of it now, by God! You keep a civil tongue in your head after this--do you understand ?--and we'll get on all right.

If you don't, I've the means to make you!" "Are you crazy ?" "Not a bit of it! Too damn sane for you and Leila to hoodwink!" "You are crazy!" repeated Plank, aghast.
"Am I?
You and Leila can take the matter into court, if you want to--unless I do.

And"-- here he leaned forward, showing his teeth again--"the next time you kiss her, close the door!" Then he went away up the marble steps and entered an elevator; and Plank, grave and pale, went out into the street and entered his big touring-car.

But the drive up town and through the sunlit park gave him no pleasure, and he entered his great house with a heavy, lifeless step, head bent, as though counting every crevice in the stones under his lagging feet.