“You,” said Frank shortly.
“Oh!” said Andrew, raising his eyebrows a little and staring at him hard; “and pray how is it you can’t swallow me?”
“Because you will keep going on in this wild, stupid way, and treating me as if I were some stupid boy whom you meant to make your butt.”
“What, to-day?”
“Yes, and yesterday, and the day before that, and last week, and—and ever since I’ve been here.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me of it if I did, like a gentleman should, and not call me a fool?”
“I didn’t; I said don’t be a fool.”
“Same thing. You insulted me.”
“Well, you’ve insulted me dozens of times.”
“And amongst gentlemen, sir,” continued Andrew haughtily, and ignoring the other’s words, “these things mean a meeting. Gentlemen don’t wear swords for nothing. They have their honour to defend. Do you understand?”