Terence O'Rourke, Gentleman Adventurer
"And—"
"And so I became acquainted with madame; she knew me, it seems,—knew me record,—and asked me to join her in this affair. I agreed."
"You know—everything, then, monsieur?"
"Sure I do, me boy. And now, what are ye going to do about it?"
"Nothing," announced Chambret coolly, seating himself in the chair which the princess had vacated. "Nothing at all."
He directed a level stare at O'Rourke, who sat up and faced him suddenly.
"I'll be damned!" the Irishman prophesied admiringly. "D'ye mean it?"
"I do, most certainly."
"Why?" gasped O'Rourke, astonished.
"Because we need you, monsieur. More particularly, because madame needs you. My personal feelings must—wait, I presume."
"Upon me word, I'm disposed to apologize to ye!"
"You forget that there is no apology for a blow. I shall expect my satisfaction upon your return."
"Faith, ye can have it then—or now," O'Rourke fired up. "I'll say this to ye, for your own good: The next time ye see that a man's broke, don't throw it in his face. 'Tis worse than a red rag to a bull."
"An error of judgment, perhaps," agreed Chambret, thoughtfully.
"But as for your satisfaction—I'll permit no man to outdo me in generosity, sir; I'm at your service when ye please."
Chambret put his hand to his face; upon his cheek the red weal blazed. His brows darkened ominously; and he glanced from O'Rourke to the clock.
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