assumed a good-humoured gravity.

"But you know this is a serious matter," he said, eyeing Turnbull
and MacIan, as if they had just been keeping the table in a roar
with their frivolities. "I am sure that if I appealed to your
higher natures...your higher natures. Every man has a higher
nature and a lower nature. Now, let us put the matter very
plainly, and without any romantic nonsense about honour or
anything of that sort. Is not bloodshed a great sin?"

"No," said MacIan, speaking for the first time.

"Well, really, really!" said the peacemaker.

"Murder is a sin," said the immovable Highlander. "There is no
sin of bloodshed."

"Well, we won't quarrel about a word," said the other,
pleasantly.

"Why on earth not?" said MacIan, with a sudden asperity. "Why
shouldn't we quarrel about a word? What is the good of words if
they aren't important enough to quarrel over? Why do we choose
one word more than another if there isn't any difference between
them? If you called a woman a chimpanzee instead of an angel,
wouldn't there be a quarrel about a word? If you're not going to
argue about words, what are you going to argue about? Are you
going to convey your meaning to me by moving your ears? The
Church and the heresies always used to fight about words, because
they are the only things worth fighting about. I say that murder