It was told of this library at Burdon House—Mr. Amber's "Lives" record it—that in the days when gentlemen wore swords against their thighs, a duel was fought here, that the thing went in three fierce assaults, each ended by a bloody thrust on this side or on that, and that between the bouts the rivals panted, sick with fatigue and hurt.
Words for swords, and the first bout:—
Lady Burdon closed the door. She went a step towards Audrey and said, "Yes?"
Audrey, with fumbling hands, swaying a little where she stood: "I think—I came to see Lady Burdon."
Odd her look, and odd her tone, and strange the trembling that visibly possessed her. Lady Burdon was about to explain. Her mind came back from its questing like one that cries alarm by night through silent streets. "Beware!" it cried to her. "Beware!" and for her explanation she substituted:
"I am Lady Burdon."
The first thrust.
Audrey put a hand against a chair that stood beside her. The trembling that had taken her when, expecting to see Roly's Gran, this stranger had appeared, began to shake her terribly in all her frame. This Lady Burdon? For the first time since her will had got her from her bed and brought her here, she was informed how weak she was. A dreadful physical sickness came over her and all the room became unsteady.
Respite enough, and the second bout:—
Lady Burdon demanded: "Who are you, please?"