For the first time in all his life he was afraid of a man.
The man he was afraid of had gone directly to Quarrier's office, missing the gentleman he was seeking by such a small fraction of a minute that he realised they must have passed each other in the elevators, he ascending while Quarrier was descending.
Mortimer turned and hurried to the elevator, hoping to come up with Quarrier in the rotunda, or possibly in the street outside; but he was too late, and, furious to think of the time he had wasted with Plank, he crawled into a hansom and bade the driver take him to a number he gave, designating one of the new limestone basement houses on the upper west side.
All the way up town, as he jolted about in his seat, he angrily regretted the meeting with Plank, even in spite of the cheque.

What demon had possessed him to boast--to display his hand when there had been no necessity?
Plank was still ready to give him aid at a crisis--had always been ready.

Time enough when Plank turned stingy to use persuasion; time enough when Plank attempted to dodge him to employ a club.

And now, for no earthly reason, intoxicated with his own vanity, catering to his own long-smouldering resentment, he had used his club on a willing horse--deliberately threatened a man whose gratitude had been good for many a cheque yet.
"Ass that I am!" fumed Mortimer; "now when I'm stuck I'll have to go at him with the club, if I want any money out of him.

Confound him, he's putting me in a false position! He's trying to make it look like extortion! I won't do it! I'm no blackmailer! I'll starve, before I go to him again! No blundering, clumsy Dutchman can make a blackmailer out of me by holding hands with that scoundrelly wife of mine! That's the reason he did it, too! Between them they are trying to make my loans from Plank look like blackmail! It would serve them right if I took them up--if I called their bluff, and stuck Plank up in earnest! But I won't, to please them! I won't do any dirty thing like that, to humour them! Not much!" He lay back, rolling about in the jouncing cab, scowling at space.
"Not much!" he repeated.