Hardly a fortnight later Philip made secure his position in Polite Society by fighting a duel with a jealous husband. Lest you should be shocked at this sudden depravity, I will tell you that there was little enough cause for fighting, as Philip considered the lady as he might consider an aunt. Happily she was unaware of this. Philip's friends did not hold back; he had no difficulty in finding seconds, and the affaire ended in a neat thrust which pinked the husband, and a fresh wave of popularity for Philip.
The Marquis told his pupil that he was a gay dog, and was met by a chilling stare.
"I—beg—your pardon?" said Philip stiffly.
"But what a modesty!" cried the Marquis, much amused.
"Is it conceivable that you think me attracted by the smiles of Madame de Foli-Martin?"
"But yes! Of course I think it!"
"Permit me to enlighten you," said Philip. "My affections are with a lady—at home."
"Oh, la, la!" deplored the Marquis. "A lady of the country? A simple country wench?"
"I thank God, yes," said Philip. He depressed his friend, who had hoped for better things of him. But he thought it wiser to change the subject.