“So much the better,” said Armstrong, who had looked on unmoved.
“Oh! you like that, then?” cried Pacey. “You’re coming round.”
“Now go,” said Armstrong, “and end this folly.”
“You’ll swear first of all that you will not meet this man?”
“I’ll swear I will,” said Armstrong coldly.
“He’ll shoot you dead.”
“I hope so.”
“Armstrong, lad, listen to me,” said Pacey, calming down. “You’ll be sensible?”
“Yes.”
“And give it up? For poor Cornel’s sake?”