"Have you sent off the note?" inquired Jack. It is no more a murder, but a duel, you understand. He sat on the bed, throwing aside his hat. I pledged my thumb that, dead or alive, I'd pay the wager if I lost; and I should like to be as good as my word. And like that gospel it meant something, something different from its phrases, something elusive, and yet something that in spite of the superficial incoherence of its phrasing, was largely essentially true. If there was such a thing as love at first sight, these two must epitomise it. The fates are never so kind to me.
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