Emmanuel compressed his lips. He wondered how she knew. There was a great deal occurring in this house that perplexed him. Moreover, Verplank’s bandage and sling interested him very much. But, trained to his calling, he bowed and withdrew.
“What do they want?” Verplank asked, memories of his own duel surging at mention of their names before him.
In Leilah’s face the tears and smiles reappearing, mingled.
“Barouffski is dead,” she answered.
Verplank closed and opened a hand. His mouth opened also. He was sure now that she was crazy.
“Dead! How? What do you mean?”
Leilah made a gesture.
“There, a moment ago, in the garden. D’Arcy shot him.”
Verplank started. The definiteness of her reply divested him of his idea concerning her, but it produced another which was also, though differently, disturbing. His eyes blazed. The old scar, the scar on the right side of his face, reddened.