"What do you mean by that, sirrah?" cried Wood, reddening with anger. "May I beg to know whom I've the pleasure of adressing? Jackson, I conclude, is merely an assumed name. "Since the sea has spared him, I will spare him. He hung vaguely for a moment as she passed. It was a duel, you understand, and that is not permitted. He opened it—just off-hand, and then when he saw what it was he hit at the table and sent his soup spoon flying and splashing on to the tablecloth. She had taken care he should have this momentous talk with her on a garden-seat commanded by the windows of the house. ‘Who kills who?’ ‘Rot in hell,’ he snarled, panting, and managed to push himself forward and leap off the dais, running for the safety of the far aisle by the wall. “I wouldn’t. Spurlock had better stick to the bungalow.
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