Book-bot.com - read famous books online for free

St. Ives, Being the Adventures of a French Prisoner in England by Robert Louis Stevenson
page 31 of 373 (08%)

'If you are sure you can follow me. That was a very sudden and
sharp seizure,' he said doubtfully. 'But if you are sure, all
right, and here goes. An affair of honour among you fellows would,
naturally, be a little difficult to carry out, perhaps it would be
impossible to have it wholly regular. And yet a duel might be very
irregular in form, and, under the peculiar circumstances of the
case, loyal enough in effect. Do you take me? Now, as a gentleman
and a soldier.'

His hand rose again at the words and hovered over me. I could bear
no more, and winced away from him. 'No,' I cried, 'not that. Do
not put your hand upon my shoulder. I cannot bear it. It is
rheumatism,' I made haste to add. 'My shoulder is inflamed and
very painful.'

He returned to his chair and deliberately lighted a cigar.

'I am sorry about your shoulder,' he said at last. 'Let me send
for the doctor.'

'Not in the least,' said I. 'It is a trifle. I am quite used to
it. It does not trouble me in the smallest. At any rate, I don't
believe in doctors.'

'All right,' said he, and sat and smoked a good while in a silence
which I would have given anything to break. 'Well,' he began
presently, 'I believe there is nothing left for me to learn. I
presume I may say that I know all.'

DigitalOcean Referral Badge