THE UNSPEAKABLE GENTLEMAN
over his guard, and had forced him to give back.
"Mon Dieu!" exclaimed my father gaily. "You surprise me. What! Again? Damn these chairs!"
A fire of exultation leapt through me. I grinned at my father over the crossed blades, for I could read something in his face that steadied my hand. My best attack might leave him unscathed, but I was doing more, much more, than he had expected. I lunged again, and again he stepped back, thrusting so quickly that I had barely time to recover.
"Excellent!" said my father. "You are quick, my son. You even have an eye."
"Mademoiselle!" I called sharply. "The paper! In the breast pocket of his coat. Take it out and burn it."
"Good God!" exclaimed my father.
"You see," I said, "I have my points."
"My son," he said, parrying the thrust with which I ended my last words, "pray accept my apologies and my congratulations. You have a better mind and a better sword than I could reasonably have expected. Indeed, you quite make me extend myself. But you must learn to recover more quickly, Henry, much more quickly. I have seen too many good men
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