He could not attack her, he could not ask her for proofs.

Somehow he felt evidence, law, the remembrance of all his property which she held in her name, to be shining in her glance.

He was like a vessel, powerful and dangerous, but rolling and floundering without sail.
"And I'm telling you," he said in the end, slightly recovering himself, "what you'll not get." "We'll see about it," she said.

"I'll find out what my rights are.
Perhaps you'll talk to a lawyer, if you won't to me." It was a magnificent play, and had its effect.

Hurstwood fell back beaten.