"'No,' he replied, 'the letter was privileged; it was written to my son.'

"'How dared you say such a thing about your son and me?'

"'You were both kicked out of The Savoy Hotel for disgusting conduct,'
he replied.

"'That's untrue,' I said, 'absolutely untrue.'

"'You were blackmailed too for a disgusting letter you wrote my son,'
he went on.

"'I don't know who has been telling you all these silly stories,' I replied,
'but they are untrue and quite ridiculous.'

"He ended up by saying that if he caught me and his son together again he would
thrash me.

"'I don't know what the Queensberry rules are,' I retorted, 'but my rule is to
shoot at sight in case of personal violence,' and with that I told him to leave
my house."

"Of course he defied you?" I questioned.

"He was rude, Frank, and preposterous to the end."

As Oscar was telling me the story, it seemed to me as if another person were
speaking through his mouth. The idea of Oscar "standing up" to Queensberry or
"shooting at sight" was too absurd. Who was inspiring him? Alfred Douglas?