"Come, that is not brave. You can retreat till your shoulders touch the mat, but I must stand this side of the line, unable to reach you. And you have the advantage of the mask besides. You are not a fair fencer."
"The odds should be in my favor. I am a woman. My wrist is not so strong as yours."
"Physically, of course, I may pass the line; to reach the salt, for instance. Will that be against the rules?"
"To a certain extent, no."
"You make it very hard. You have put temptation in my path."
"Bid Satan get behind thee."
"But supposing he should take it into his head to—shoulder me forward?"
"In that case, under the new rules, I should referee the matter."
"I wish I knew the color of your eyes. Behind those holes I see nothing but points of fire, no color. Are they blue, brown, grey?"
"They are blue. But supposing I wear this mask because my face is dreadfully scarred, and that I have some vanity?"