In speaking he had crossed the room, now he recrossed it.
Imploringly Leilah approached him.
“Gulian, not that, not that! Don’t fight with him again. Don’t, I beseech you. It is not alone that anything of the kind is so horrible but he is one of the trickiest swordsmen here. Think what that means! Think what would become of me if—if——”
From the pocket of his coat Verplank had taken the revolver. He looked at it, looked at her, replaced it.
“I am a trifle interested in the matter myself. Besides, there are other weapons than the foil. If I can shoot pigeons—and I believe I can—I ought to be able to land a buzzard.”
At sight of the revolver Leilah had winced. Now she cried:
“Give it to me!”
Verplank, amused at her simplicity, smiled.
“That isn’t a dueling pistol.”
“But you never carried one before.”