"Inspector Bale is not a man easy to associate with," Hermann said. "I understand your feeling." He rose and came around the table.
"I feel you should know," he went on, "that he is among the most skillful with sabre and epee. Make no hasty decision now—"
"What decision?" I asked.
"Already you have a painful wound," he said. "We must not allow you to be laid up at this critical time. Are you sure of your skill with a pistol?"
"What wound?" I said. "You mean my neck?" I put my hand up to touch it. I winced; there was a deep gouge, caked with blood. Suddenly I was aware that the back of my jacket was soggy. That near-miss was a little nearer than I had thought.
"I hope you will accord Manfred and myself the honor of seconding you," Hermann continued, "and perhaps of advising you...."
"What's this all about, Hermann?" I said. "What do you mean—seconding me?"
"Why," he seemed confused, "we wish to stand with you in your meeting with Bale."
"Meeting with Bale?" I repeated. I knew I didn't sound very bright. I was beginning to realize how lousy I felt.
Goering stopped and looked at me. "Inspector Bale is a man most sensitive of personal dignity," he said. "You have given him a tongue-lashing before witnesses, and a well deserved one it was; however, it remains a certainty that he will demand satisfaction." He saw that I was still groping. "Bale will challenge you, Brion," he said. "You must fight him."