"If he does, I'll beat him like a dog."
The other stood for a moment, as though waiting for something more; but, as Anthony was silent, he turned, and in a moment the door which had admitted him to the public room closed behind him. Whitaker spoke in a low voice.
"Of course I do not know what is usual in New Orleans. But it must be the same as anywhere else. Tarrant is held a man of consequence here, and to refuse him satisfaction would be a grave thing socially. Is your mind completely made up?"
"Dueling," spoke Anthony, "is a code that has no place in the modern world; it is murderous and preposterous."
Whitaker shook his head.
"There is a law against it, but the man who refuses a challenge is marked."
Anthony looked more grim than ever.
"I am never troubled," said he, "by the way people regard me. And fear of society's disapproval is only entertained by those who value its countenance. There is no force that I know of that can make me place my life in jeopardy at the hands of a practised man-killer; neither can it compel me to go out in cold blood and kill him."
Whitaker wriggled in his seat.
"I'm afraid your uncle—" he began.