composure. His eyes held an odd gleam of satisfaction. "You are right.
We are not like ourselves, at present. I will better ask Mr. Sturgeon to
see your friend to-morrow morning. This morning, rather."

Not without dignity, he turned, stepped quickly to the stairs, saluted
gravely, and went down.

"No, no!" panted Nesbit, wrestling with Rudolph. "Easy on, now! Let you
go? No fear!"

Heywood wrenched the captive loose, but only to shake him violently, and
thrust him into a chair.

"Be quiet, you little ass!" he scolded. "I've a great mind, myself, to
run after the bounder and kick him. But that sort of thing--you did
enough. Who'd have thought? You young spitfire! Chantel took you on,
exactly as he wanted."

The fat sleeper continued to snore. Wutzler came slinking back from his
refuge in the shadows.

"It iss zo badt!" he whined, gulping nervously. "It iss zo badt!"

"Right you are," said Heywood. With arms folded, he eyed them sternly.
"It's bad. We might have known. If only I'd reached him first! By Jove,
you must let me fight that beast. Duels? The idiot, nobody fights duels
any more. I've always--His cuffs are always dirty, too, on the inside!"

Rudolph leaned back, like a man refreshed and comforted, but his laugh
was unsteady, and too boisterous.