He removed his hand as suddenly as he had laid it there. 'What is
wrong with you?' said he.
'It is nothing,' said I. 'A qualm. It has gone by.'
'Are you sure?' said he. 'You are as white as a sheet.'
'Oh no, I assure you! Nothing whatever. I am my own man again,' I
said, though I could scarce command my tongue.
'Well, shall I go on again?' says he. 'Can you follow me?'
'Oh, by all means!' said I, and mopped my streaming face upon my
sleeve, for you may be sure in those days I had no handkerchief.
'If you are sure you can follow me. That was a very sudden and
sharp seizure,' he said doubtfully. 'But if you are sure, all
right, and here goes. An affair of honour among you fellows would,
naturally, be a little difficult to carry out, perhaps it would be
impossible to have it wholly regular. And yet a duel might be very
irregular in form, and, under the peculiar circumstances of the
case, loyal enough in effect. Do you take me? Now, as a gentleman
and a soldier.'
His hand rose again at the words and hovered over me. I could bear
no more, and winced away from him. 'No,' I cried, 'not that. Do
not put your hand upon my shoulder. I cannot bear it. It is
rheumatism,' I made haste to add. 'My shoulder is inflamed and
very painful.'
He returned to his chair and deliberately lighted a cigar.
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