"Oh," he said. "If it strikes you that way, I shall feel much relieved."
"Relieve yourself of all embarrassment," returned Warner gayly. "If our acquaintance entails further scraps with those gentlemen, I shall be merely the more grateful to you."
They both laughed; Warner swung his long whip like a fly rod and caught the loop cleverly on his whip-stock.
Halkett, still laughing, said:
"You don't look as though you enjoyed a cabaret fight. You look far too respectable."
"Oh, I am respectable, I suppose. But I'm not very aged yet, and my student days are still rather near."
The road curved out now along the Récollette where it still flowed a placid stream between green meadows and through charming bits of woodland. In the glass of the flood the sunset sky was mirrored; swallows cut the still, golden surface; slowly spreading circles of rising fish starred it at intervals.
"So you don't go armed?" remarked Warner thoughtfully.
"No."
The American pointed with the butt of his whip to the dashboard where the blue-black butts of two automatics appeared from slung holsters.