chaic--for the rural districts.
We've progressed way beyond that--men of the world don't shoot any
more."

"I said it quietly," said Lightbody, who perceived, not without
surprise, that he was no longer at the same temperature. However, he
concluded with normal conviction: "I shall kill them both, that's all. I
say it quietly."

This gave De Gollyer a certain hortatory moment of which he availed
himself, seeking to reduce further the dramatic tension.

"My dear old pal, as a matter of fact, all I say is, consider first and
shoot after. In the first place, suppose you kill one or both and you
are not yourself killed--for you know, dear boy, the deuce is that
sometimes does happen. What then? Justice is so languid nowadays.
Certainly you would have to inhabit for six, eight--perhaps ten
months--a drafty, moist jail, without exercise, most indigestible food
abominably cooked, limited society. You are brought to trial. A jury--an
emotional jury--may give you a couple of years. That's another risk. You
see you drink cocktails, you smoke cigarettes. You will be made to
appear a person totally unfit to live with."

Lightbody with a movement of irritation, shifted the clutch of his
fingers.

"As a matter of fact, suppose you are acquitted, what then? You emerge,
middle-aged, dyspeptic, possibly rheumatic--no nerves left. Your
photograph figures in every paper along with inventors of shoes and
corsets. You can't be asked to dinner or to house parties, can you? As a
matter of fact, you'll disappear somewhere or linger and get shot by the
brother, who in turn, as soon as he is acquitted, must be shot by your
brother, et cetera, et cetera! _Voila!_ What will you have gained?"

He ceased, well pleased--he had convinced himself.

Lightbody, who had had time to be ashamed of the emotion that he, as a
man, had shown to another of his sex, rose and said with dignity:

"I shall have avenged my honor."

De Gollyer, understanding at once that the battle had been won, took up
in an easy running attack his battery of words.

"By publishing your dishonor to Europe, Africa, Asia? That's logic,
isn't it? No, no, my dear old Jack--you won't do it. You won't be an
ass. Steady head, old boy! Let's look at it in a reasonable way--as men
of the world. You can't bring her back, can you? She's gone."

At this reminder, overcome by the vibrating sense of loss, Lightbody
turned abruptly, no longer master of himself, and going hastily toward