"As you say, there is another and a better time. We need dogs as well as men in these days."
"I hope you won't forget that I thanked you for coming back last Saturday."
The Count turned and walked rapidly away.
Truxton leaned against the low wall alongside the Allée. "I don't know that I've helped matters any," he said to himself ruefully. "He'll not let me get within half a mile of the Castle after this. If she doesn't come out for a stroll in the park, I fancy I'll never see her—Heigho! I wish something would happen! Why doesn't Marlanx begin bombarding? It's getting devilish monotonous here."
He strolled off to the stables, picking up Mr. Hobbs on the way.
"Hobbs," he said, "we've got to find John Tullis, that's all there is to it." He was scowling fiercely at a most inoffensive lawn-mower in the grass at the left.
"I daresay, sir," said Mr. Hobbs with sprightly decisiveness. "He's very much needed."
"I'm going to need him before long as my second."
"Your second, sir? Are you going to fight a duel?"
"I suppose so," lugubriously. "It's too much to expect him to meet me with bare fists. Oh, Hobbs, I wish we could arrange it for bare knucks!" He delivered a mighty swing at an invisible adversary. Hobbs's hat fell off with the backward jerk of surprise.