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THE FOUNDATION OF THE PLOT
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own good. Some day you'll thank me. You are the first girl I've ever really loved, and—I—I just can't stand by and let you go to the devil with my eyes shut. I am going to save you, whether you like it or not. I am going to do the right thing by you, and you will never regret chucking this rotter for me. We will have to be a little careful at home, that's all. It would never do to let the old folks see that I am more than ordinarily interested in you, or you in me. Once, when I was a good deal younger and didn't have much sense, I spoiled a—but you wouldn't care to hear about it."

She declared to them that she would never forget the significant grin he permitted himself in addition to the wink.

"The dog!" grated Thomas Trotter, his knuckles white.

M. Mirabeau straightened himself to his full height,—and a fine figure of a man was he!

"Mr. Trotter," he said, with grave dignity, "it will afford me the greatest pleasure and honour to represent you in this crisis. Pray command me. No doubt the scoundrel will refuse to meet you, but at any rate a challenge may be—"

Miss Emsdale broke in quickly. "Don't,—for heaven's sake, dear M. Mirabeau,—don't put such notions into his head! It is bad enough as it is. I beg of you—"

"Besides," said Mr. Bramble, "one doesn't fight duels in this country, any more than one does in England. It's quite against the law."

"I sha'n't need any one to represent me when it comes to punching his head," said Mr. Trotter.