The Marquess was disconcerted. He obviously felt that I was about to
reflect on him in the gravest way; that, in short, I was backing out. He
would be tarnished by the dishonour that had driven me out of the world of
gentlemen.
"I think," said he, "that would be overstraining the privileges of an
insulted gentleman."
"Run away, farmer!" bellowed Sir Patrick raucously.
Tiverton looked disdainfully at him. "You may like to know, my lords and
gentlemen," he said, as grandly as if he were reciting a set piece from
the stage, "that on the night of his arrival from Boston my friend was
rudely insulted in the Strand by a certain person." Here he stopped,
whirled round on the hulking scoundrel, and added grimly to him, "I shall
finish the story unless you leave the room at once."
Gee thought better of it and slipped off like a disturbed night-prowler.
"Thank you, my lord," said I very humbly, "for your decision. I hope my
unavoidable ignorance entitles me to try again."
"Certainly," said he, but with unmistakable uncertainty.
I looked round the intent curious circle of faces and then at Brocton.
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