“They say he’s a swordsman?”
“So I was given to understand. It’s my belief the English don’t understand the art. There’s some mobility required. Do you see the mountain on the skip?” He laughed gently. “With pistols I will believe him an expert. It’s a barbarous sport.”
Prudence frowned. “You would say there can be no meeting for fear of the Markham making a disclosure?”
“I apprehend the matter runs something after that fashion.”
“Faugh! It’s a very cur.”
“Certainly, child, but curs may snap. I need not tell you to step warily, I suppose.”
“I stand in some danger of being called out, you think? I shall be all conciliation. It’s possible the dear soul may himself step warily. That blow in the coffee-room — a child’s trick, egad! — would make pretty telling.”
“Just, my dear, but run no risks. There are pitfalls on all sides.”
“You do perceive them, then? I’ve trod no trickier maze. And we plunge deeper and deeper.”
“There is flight open to us if need arise. I console myself with that thought.”