After two or three minutes of terrible silence, Dorian turned round and came
and stood behind him, putting his hand upon his shoulder.
"I am so sorry for you, Alan," he murmured, "but you leave me
no alternative. I have a letter written already. Here it is.
You see the address. If you don't help me, I must send it.
If you don't help me, I will send it. You know what the result will be.
But you are going to help me. It is impossible for you to refuse now.
I tried to spare you. You will do me the justice to admit that.
You were stern, harsh, offensive. You treated me as no man has ever
dared to treat me--no living man, at any rate. I bore it all.
Now it is for me to dictate terms."
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