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Campion
grabbed
Rosemary
’
s
arm
.
"
I
can
’
t
stand
it
,
"
he
squeaked
,
almost
voiceless
.
"
It
’
s
too
much
.
This
will
cost
me
—
"
"
Let
go
,
"
Rosemary
said
peremptorily
.
She
breathed
a
frantic
prayer
in
French
.
The
principals
faced
each
other
,
Barban
with
the
sleeve
rolled
up
from
his
arm
.
His
eyes
gleamed
restlessly
in
the
sun
,
but
his
motion
was
deliberate
as
he
wiped
his
palm
on
the
seam
of
his
trousers
.
McKisco
,
reckless
with
brandy
,
pursed
his
lips
in
a
whistle
and
pointed
his
long
nose
about
nonchalantly
,
until
Abe
stepped
forward
with
a
handkerchief
in
his
hand
.
The
French
second
stood
with
his
face
turned
away
.
Rosemary
caught
her
breath
in
terrible
pity
and
gritted
her
teeth
with
hatred
for
Barban
;
then
:
"
One
—
two
—
three
!
"
Abe
counted
in
a
strained
voice
.
They
fired
at
the
same
moment
.
McKisco
swayed
but
recovered
himself
.
Both
shots
had
missed
.
"
Now
,
that
’
s
enough
!
"
cried
Abe
.
The
duellists
walked
in
,
and
everyone
looked
at
Barban
inquiringly
.
"
I
declare
myself
unsatisfied
.
"
"
What
?
Sure
you
’
re
satisfied
,
"
said
Abe
impatiently
.
"
You
just
don
’
t
know
it
.
"
