"He will not throw me into the river. It might be different if you went. Therefore I think—"
"Throw me in, would he?" and Bazelhurst laughed loudly. "I'm no groom, my dear. You forget that it is possible for Mr. Shaw to be soused."
"He was good enough to souse himself this morning," volunteered
Penelope. "I rather like him."
"By Jove, Cecil, you're not afraid to meet him, are you?" asked the duke with tantalizing coolness. "You know, if you are, I'll go over and talk to the fellow."
"Afraid? Now, hang it all, Barminster, that's rather a shabby thing to suggest. You forget India."
"I'm trying to. Demmed miserable time I had out there. But this fellow fights. That's more than the beastly natives did when we were out there. Marching isn't fighting, you know."
"Confound it, you forget the time—"
"Mon Dieu, are we to compare ze Hindoo harem wiz ze American feest slugger?" cried the count, with a wry face.
"What's that?" demanded two noblemen in one voice. The count apologized for his English.
"No one but a coward would permit this disagreeable Shaw creature to run affairs in such a high-handed way," said her ladyship. "Of course Cecil is not a coward."