"Will you?" Ford challenged, because he had come this far and it didn't seem like the moment to stop. Darrow had pulled his wand out and had it pressed against Ford's chest, but there was a part of Ford that didn't feel as though he was in danger. Not the way he'd felt in danger when they'd been circling each other in the room, out of sight, anyway. Because if Darrow had pulled his wand and poked Ford in the chest with it, that meant that at least for the moment he had opted not to use it. Given how worked up he was getting over Ford's remarks, he might not even be capable of thinking of a spell at the moment. Ford may have had his hands tied in front of him and Darrow may have had both wands, but Ford felt as though he'd gained the upper hand in this situation, at least for the moment.

"Poor, sick Billy Darrow," he continued, eyes alight. "Is going to... do what? How are you going to shut me up?"