“No, no, Metzler,” cried the Duke noisily. “I object to that. Lookers-on can see too much and can make use of their knowledge. If Count Benderoff is too careful of his money to play, you should ask him to retire.”
“That is the third unpleasant thing you have said about me in as many minutes,” I said, turning pointedly to him, but speaking coolly.
“Is it?” and he laughed insolently. “Well, you’re doing a deuced unpleasant thing, and I suppose I may express my opinion.” This time two of the other men sniggered.
“I have merely expressed a wish to play no more.”
“And you do it with an air of a highly virtuous priest with a mission to teach us how to behave ourselves. We don’t want you Englishmen or Roumanians, or whatever you please to call yourself, coming here to set up any canting standard of morals. We can look after ourselves,” he sneered, his face flushed and his eyes glittering angrily.
The situation was fast growing serious, and every man stopped to watch us two.
“I have done nothing of the kind, as you and these gentlemen know quite well. It seems that you wish to insult me wantonly.”
“Do you mean to say that I don’t speak the truth, Count Benderoff?” he cried, rising and coming towards me.
“I STRUCK HIM A VIOLENT BLOW AND KNOCKED HIM DOWN.”—Page [181].