“I’m surprised at you, George!” Mr Ringwood said severely. “You know very well poor Sherry’s no match for you!”
“Yes, and there’s another thing!” interposed Ferdy. “It’s devilish shabby of you, so it is, George, to stand out for twenty-five yards!”
“George!” said Mr Ringwood, with all the earnestness at his command. “I tell you it won’t do! He may not choose to own it, but Sherry knows as well as I do there was nothing in it! Whole affair can be settled as easy as winking! Need only explain the circumstances to Sherry — feel persuaded he would meet you half way!”
“Do you expect me to draw back from an engagement?” demanded George.
“He’s in his airs again!” said Ferdy despairingly. “I never knew such a fellow, never!”
“I see no reason why you should not, George,” said Mr Ringwood. “If anyone ever knew anything about it, which they won’t, they wouldn’t think you was afraid to meet Sherry. The idea’s absurd!”
“That’s it: absurd!” corroborated Ferdy. “What’s more, if they did think it, they wouldn’t dare say so,” he added, naïvely. “If you ask me, it’s a pity no one does dare say a word you don’t like to you: do you good! It would really, old fellow! However, it’s no use worrying over that now!”
“Unless you can prevail upon Sherry to withdraw his cartel, I shall meet him at Westbourn Green tomorrow morning,” said George inexorably. “And if you think you can so prevail upon him, you don’t know Sherry!”
Upon this intransigent note he parted from his friends, leaving them in great perplexity. The trouble was, Ferdy said, that you never could tell, with George. Mr Ringwood agreed that when George was in his high ropes there was no knowing at all what mad act he would take it into his head to commit. Both gentlemen sat in gloomy silence for some minutes, meditating on all the grim possibilities of the approaching duel. Mr Ringwood could not but feel that the Honourable Ferdy had touched the very kernel of the matter when he raised his head and said that the devil of it was that George couldn’t miss. He drew a breath, and said: “Got to be stopped. Dash it, can’t let George kill poor Sherry! Tell you what, Ferdy: nothing for it but to talk to Lady Sherry.”
Mr Fakenham, always very nice in all matters of etiquette, looked shocked, but his scruples were overborne.