"That caitiff, Craven Le Noir, has slandered me! Oh, the villain! He is a base slanderer! Percy, get up this moment and challenge Le Noir! I cannot breathe freely until it is done!" exclaimed Capitola, impetuously.
"Cousin Cap, duelling is obsolete; scenes are passè; law settles everything; and here there is scarcely ground for action for libel. But be comforted, coz, for if this comes to Uncle Hurricane's ears, he'll make mince-meat of him in no time. It is all in his line; he'll chaw him right up!"
"Percy, do you mean to say that you will not call out that man?" asked Capitola, drawing her breath hardly.
"Yes, coz."
"You won't fight him?"
"No, coz."
"You won't?"
"No."
"Edwin Percy, look me straight in the face!" said Cap, between her closed teeth.
"Well, I am looking you straight in the face—straight in the two blazing gray eyes, you little tempest in a teapot—what then?"