. . Here, Monsieur;
there is equal light, and we are alone."
"I do not kill old men."
"Then listen: I apply to you the term De Leviston applied to my son."
"Monsieur, retract that!"
Their shoulders brushed and glowing eyes looked into glowing eyes.
"Bah! In my fifties I killed more men of your kidney than I am proud
of. Retract? I never retract;" and the marquis snapped his fingers
under D'Herouville's nose.
D'Herouville slapped the marquis in the face. "Your age, Monsieur,
will not save you. No man shall address me in this fashion!"
"Not even my son, eh, Monsieur? There is still blood in your muddy
veins, then? Come to my room, Monsieur; no one will see us there. And
you will not be subjected to the evils of the night air and the dew;"
and the calm old man waved a hand toward the lights which shone from
the windows of his room above.
"You have brought this upon yourself," said D'Herouville, cold with
fury, forgetting his newly healed wound.
"What worried me most was the fear that you might not understand me.
Permit me to show you the way, Monsieur."
The marquis was the calmer of the two.
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