interesting one, and most of us—contrary to our habits,—were straining our ears to listen to every word he uttered. I remember he was saying that the lads of 15 and 16 had fought like heroes.
All at once the boy next to me—the one who had wanted to know if I had ever seen a beast with two backs—whispered in my ear:
"Just ask him at what age one can fire off a shot!"
"Why!" rejoined I innocently, not understanding the drift of the question.
"For the fun of the thing."
"But there's no fun."
"Well, ask him and you'll see if there isn't."
"Then ask him yourself."
"Oh! you are frightened," he whispered.
"No I'm not."
"Then ask."
I did as I was bid, simply, straightforwardly.
I saw Mr Durieux blush scarlet and bounce off his chair, as if he had been jerked out of it.
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