‘I’m like Othello, sir,’ Paul answered: “Nought I did in hate, but all in honour.” I had no difference with the gentleman who did this for me. We met and parted on the most excellent terms.’
But even when Paul had told his story, Armstrong was un-appeased, and declined to see any form of humour in it.
‘It’s just a wanton defacing of the Divine image,’ he said, ‘and a return upon the original beast.’
Paul was constrained to let the incident rest there, but he comforted himself by fighting the battle over again in fancy. In this wise he beat the champion of the afternoon hands down, and came off without a scar.
CHAPTER VII
Armstrong and Paul were keeping house alone, and were playing chess together. The big eight-day clock ticked, the cat purred noisily on Armstrong’s shoulder, the clear burning fire made slight crisp sounds in the grate, and now and then slack fell from the bars. The two sat in silence, poring over the board. Paul made a move.
‘That’s vile play,’ said Armstrong. ‘Mate in four.’
‘Go on, sir,’ Paul answered.
‘Chick,’ said Armstrong.