“There is my card, sir! I would be glad to have yours?”
“‘Baron Killcrichtoun?’ I do not know the name or title. Well, Baron, what is your will with me?”
“First, sir, that bouquet, which you have had the insolence to keep! Secondly, sir, satisfaction for the insults you have offered to a lady who is near and dear to me?”
“Insults!” exclaimed the excitable Austrian, jumping off his feet. “Insults! sare, I never offer insults to a lady in my life! Sare, you speak von untruth! Sare, you speak von large lie! Sare, it is I, myself, I, who will have von grand satisfaction!”
“So you shall! but first give me that bouquet!”
“Sare, I will give you no bouquet! Sare, I defend my bouquet with the best blood of my heart! Sare, by what right you demand my bouquet?”
“By a right too sacred to be talked of here! Give me the bouquet that you have stolen!”
“‘Stolen!’” cried his highness, vaulting into the air, “Sare, I will put back that word down your t’roat with the point of my rapier, sare! I will have von grand, von very grand satisfaction, sare!”
“All right! I will send a friend to you this morning, to arrange the terms of a meeting,” said Alexander, turning away.
“Make your testament, sare! I advise you, set your house in order, sare!” exclaimed the Austrian, shaking his hand aloft. “Make your testament, sare! for, for me, myself, I will have von grand satisfaction! von very grand satisfaction!”