Nor could Richard put Mr.Fopling and his violent advice out of his head.
"Money is the villain's heart's-blood!" thought Richard.

"I'm inclined to conclude that Fopling is right.

If I take his money from him, he is helpless--a viper without its fangs, a bear with its back broken!" Richard put in that evening in his own apartments.

Had you been there to watch his face, you would have been struck by the capacity for hate and love and thought displayed in the lowering brow and brooding eye.
Richard smoked and considered; at eight o'clock he rang for Mr.Gwynn.
That precise gentleman of stiffness and English immobility appeared, clothed in extreme evening dress, and established himself, ramrod-like, in a customary spot in the center of the floor.

There was a figure on the Persian rug whereon Mr.Gwynn never failed to take position.