"You cur!" he cried. "You cur, to hit at a man who's down!"
Aylmer's tanned cheek showed through it a tiny flush. The dart had gone home.
"When you prove that an apology's due, I'll make it."
"In the street!" sneered Landon. "I'm to shout my wrongs, tell you all the intimate story of my provocation before the town. Thank you for nothing!"
Aylmer made a little movement of the hand which implied irritation.
"You can come to my quarters," he said, "but—"
"This evening?"
"No, this evening I'm dining out. You can come to my quarters. Until you give me reason to alter my opinion I don't introduce you to my friends. Is that understood?"
Landon stood silent for another instant before he answered slowly.
"Yes," he agreed. "You've read and been told enough to excuse you. Yes, I'll come. And in half an hour you'll be begging my pardon, or—"