He is superb with the rapier, light and quick as a cat; a daredevil, who had not his match in Paris.

Free with his money, a famous drinker, and never an enemy.

Yes, I will apologize for my bad taste in approaching him to-night.

I should have waited till morning." "You were rude to Mademoiselle de Vaudemont." Victor suddenly refused to conciliate.
"Rude?
Well, yes; I admit that.

My word of honor, I could not contain myself at the sound of her voice." "Or of madame's ?" shrewdly.
"Or of madame's." The vicomte smoothed his mustache.
Their eyes met, and the flame in the vicomte's disquieted Victor, courageous though he was.
"It seems to me," said the vicomte, "that you have been needlessly beating about the bush.