Seeing him at Mrs.
Slapman's, M. Bartin avoided the Signer's presence, fearing they might
come into a collision disgraceful to the time and the place. The Signer,
for the same considerate reasons, kept shy of M. Bartin. After dodging
each other for a long time, they were at last brought, by accident, face
to face. M. Bartin was calm. Signor Mancussi tried to be tranquil, but
those small, lean black letters at the foot of the list rose vividly to
his mind; and, before he could check himself, he had whispered, or
hissed, between his set teeth, the word,
"SCOUNDREL!"
M. Bartin was taken unawares, but had sufficient presence of mind to
reply, "You're another," in a whisper, low, but freighted with meaning.
Whereupon the Signor responded, also under his breath, "You're no
gentleman." To this assertion, M. Bartin answered, with masterly irony,
"And you _are_ a gentleman, now, a'n't you?"
Up to this point the controversy had been pleasantly conducted in
whispers, and was unnoticed by the bystanders; but M. Bartin's last
insinuation had the strange effect of maddening the Signor still more.
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