"No, no. The bullet only grazed my arm." "Thank God."
"I think I threw myself down when he fired. It was just instinct. And I lay here—to be safe—till friends came up."
Jasper was kissing her hands with a man's devoutness, and Stott took snuff with energy and walked on to where Jeremy and De Rothan were standing like two statues, staring into each other's eyes. Neither of them had spoken, neither of them had moved.
"What news, Stott? I haven't eyes in the back of my head."
"Two young people seem very taken with each other."
"She's not hurt, then?"
"A mere scratch."
"God be praised!"
There were deep furrows between Jeremy's eyebrows, and his mouth was a grim, hard line. He moved three steps nearer to De Rothan, pistol on hip, sword ready.
"Have you any more cheating cards to play, sir, before we come to the last hand?"