“I have noticed it,” said the Armenian grimly. He was obviously a well-educated young man.
We had him walking between us, and he never even pretended that he liked our company.
“I suppose,” said Tarlyon cattishly, “you’ve got bombs all over you.”
“Sir!” snapped the Armenian.
“Sir to you,” said Tarlyon.
“I was merely going to say,” said the Armenian, “that in my opinion you are a fool. Do I look the kind of man to carry bombs? I favour the revolver.”
“Oh, do you?” said I. Sarcastic I was, you understand.
He looked at me with those large, devilish eyes.
“And one shot,” he said gently, “is always enough....”
I gave up.