Immediately the picture that had formed itself before him at Voisins returned. From it the Why had gone but the obstacle remained, and, as he got from the bed, he promised himself to demolish it.
Now, in the hostile enclosure, as the dogs barked and Barouffski appeared, Verplank removed his coat, undid his collar, rolled up his sleeves.
Beside him, bending over a case, the old man mumbled. He was a surgeon. The hour was not to his liking. He believed in duels, they were a source of revenue to him, but he believed in fighting on an empty stomach and, in the afternoon, who had that?
He looked up at Verplank. “Monsieur, you are young, you are brave, I doubt not you are also adroit. But had I been you, when your seconds asked, as I may suppose they asked: ‘Which shall it be, the pistol at twenty paces or the sword?’ I would have said to them: ‘Give me the sword at twenty paces.’ Yes; that is what I would have said.”
Verplank ignored him utterly. In the center of the garden the seconds grouped together, were concluding details. Beyond, near the house, Barouffski stood. He also was now bare-armed. Near him, emptying a case, was the young man with the serious face. Beside him, placed upright against a wall, were two long green bags. From the street came the usual rumble, the noise of motors, the cries of hawkers, the snorting of stallions, the clatter of hoofs.
Silverstairs, abandoning the others went over to Verplank.
“De Fresnoy has been chosen director.”
Verplank, from his trowsers pocket, had taken a pair of gloves. The palm of one of them, previously moistened, had been dusted with rosin. Now, as he put it on, he looked across at Barouffski who was looking at him. The man’s bare arms were hairy and the sight of them was repugnant to Verplank. At once all the jealousy, all the hate of the male, mounted like wine to his head. He coloured, his hand shook. Then, resolutely, he reacted. In a moment he had again control of himself and it was idly, with an air of indifference, as he finished with his glove, that, in reference to the dinner that evening, he said:
“Are you to have many people to-night?”
Silverstairs, delighted that Verplank, showing up in such form, should be so sure of the result, laughed. “No, it is to be small and early. Afterward we go on to a play. The missis has a box for something, the Gymnase I think.”