CHAPTER LXXXIII
Which Essays the High Epic Note
The day on which Mr. Quilliam O’Flaherty Macloughlin Myre got his freedom in the divorce-courts of France, he received a challenge from a hot young blood called Solignac, first cousin to Gabrielle.
Gaston Latour entered the room, grimly solemn in the conventional frock-coat and trim dress of the man of fashion, and holding a shining silk hat in his hand. He was very careful of the silk hat—he had borrowed it. It had the flattest brim he could find in Paris.
He was followed by another solemn youth. They marched in, clicked their heels together, bowed, and presented the letter that held the invitation to face death at daybreak. It was all done with a charm of manner devoid of all offence, and a desire to be referred to two of Mr. Myre’s “friends.”
Mr. Myre read the letter; and, as he read, his face became more like the hue of badly-made paste.
He was a long time reading it, Gaston Latour’s sleepy eyes never leaving him.
He burst into a harsh laugh, and flung the letter into the air: