'Is it true?'
'I have said it, Mr. Insolent.'
'Then you're a beast, d'you hear?'
'And you, sir, are an intermeddling hound!' shouted the Gascon, foaming at the mouth in a spasm of fury.
O'Hoolohan shut his lips firmly a moment, and clenched his hands as if struggling to suppress his wrath. Then, having apparently succeeded, he said quietly and deliberately, while a smile that was near akin to a sneer played about his lips:
'You are a braggart and a bully, like most Gascons, and it is my private opinion at present that you are a coward into the bargain.'
There was an immediate springing to the feet of all present, and a confused hubbub of voices, everyone speaking at once.
'Silence!' shouted the Gascon. 'This is my concern. You'll have to answer for this, sir. Here is my friend's address.'
'I'm at your service, and the sooner the better. Your friend will not have to wait long for a visit from a friend of mine.' And O'Hoolohan handed his adversary his card, and took the proffered address with a bow. Then, removing his hat with a sarcastic coolness, he saluted the company and left.
Idiots, you will say, my dear sir or madame, to pick up this quarrel on such foolish grounds! I admit it. But do not most quarrels rest on the basis of folly? and are not most disputants idiots? So it has been, and so will it be to the crack of doom.