You have heard my terms.

I refuse to argue the matter further.

What is it to be?
Five millions or competition?
Decide now or this interview must end!" He took out his watch and with his other hand touched a bell.
Beads of perspiration stood on his visitor's forehead.

In a voice broken with suppressed emotion he said hoarsely: "You're a hard, pitiless man, John Ryder! So be it--five millions.
I don't know what they'll say.

I don't dare return to them." "Those are my terms," said Ryder coldly.