“And did it cut deep down into your very soul, and make you feel as if nothing but blood would heal the pain?”
“Well, egad, no. It hurt a good deal, but I was obliged to pocket it all. Lady’s husband was a bit put out, you see. But that’s a long time ago. And do you really mean to fight?”
“Fight? If I don’t I shall lie in wait for the scoundrel and shoot him like a dog.”
“You couldn’t do that, my dear Rockley. Behaviour unworthy of an officer and a gentleman.”
“And as for that woman,” continued Rockley, striding up and down the room as if he were some savage beast confined in a cage, “my God! she shall smart for this!”
“My dear Rockley,” said Sir Harry, “you went the wrong way to work.”
“Silence, idiot!” roared the Major fiercely. “You would, of course, have won. She would have gone down on her knees to you. You are so handsome—so irresistible. Oh, damn it! No one could withstand you!”
“Sneer away, old fellow. I’m not going to boast,” said Sir Harry with a quiet, self-satisfied smile. “I’m not the man to kiss and tell; but—never mind.”
“Go on and settle that at once. No shirking; no excuses, mind. He shall meet me, and then—”
“Then—poor devil!” murmured Sir Harry Payne, as he sauntered out of the room and away across the parade ground. “What a temper he has! By George! if he were little May’s husband I’m afraid I should be disposed to abdicate in favour of some one, who might flirt to his heart’s content for me.