"Signor Keralio is the well-known fencing master."
A look of disappointment came over the president's face. Only a fencing master? Ugh! He was hardly worth bothering about. He wondered whether the business were profitable and if all fencing masters dressed like millionaires and had such polished manners. Helen explained:
"Signor Keralio is a friend of my husband. Kenneth enjoys fencing, and Signor Keralio is his teacher."
"Oh, yes, to be sure," smiled Mr. Parker. "Capital idea—splendid exercise. I'd try it myself, only I'm afraid I'd do my adversary some injury."
The Italian gave a low chuckle. With veiled irony, he said:
"Monsieur is right. He no doubt has a good eye, a supple wrist. An encounter might be very unpleasant for his opponent."
Ray, unable to control her mirth, hastily beat a retreat, followed more leisurely by Mr. Steell, and taking refuge at the far end of the room sat down at the piano, and began to play softly a Chopin nocturne.
Waving the newcomer to a seat, Mr. Parker offered him a cigar, which the fencing master, with a courteous bow, asked his hostess' permission to smoke.
"By all means," she said, "and with your permission I'll leave you gentlemen alone a few moments. I have a letter to finish. It must go tonight to catch the boat."
"It's to your husband, I wager," said Keralio, with a sardonic smile.