He walked out into the Champs Elysées and sat down. ’ ‘That’s better. A woman may choose any one for her lover, but for her friend she makes no mistake. ’ He stared at the point, glanced at the fallen sword imprisoned by her foot, and only just looked back at her weapon in time to see it thrust at him again. Two shots were fired, and presently the clashing of swords was heard below. The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child. She was a much lighter and more frivolous person, very charming and companionable—but with a difference—a great difference.
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