de Chabrillane
back into the rain.
"I desire to take shelter, monsieur," the Chevalier hectored.
"You may do so without standing on my feet. I have a prejudice
against any one standing on my feet. My feet are very tender.
Perhaps you did not know it, monsieur. Please say no more."
"Why, I wasn't speaking, you lout!" exclaimed the Chevalier,
slightly discomposed.
"Were you not? I thought perhaps you were about to apologize."
"Apologize?" Chabrillane laughed. "To you! Do you know that you
are amusing?" He stepped under the awning for the second time,
and again in view of all thrust Andre-Louis rudely back.
"Ah!" cried Andre-Louis, with a grimace. "You hurt me, monsieur.
I have told you not to push against me." He raised his voice that
all might hear him, and once more impelled M. de Chabrillane back
into the rain.
Now, for all his slenderness, his assiduous daily sword-practice
had given Andre-Louis an arm of iron. Also he threw his weight
into the thrust. His assailant reeled backwards a few steps, and
then his heel struck a baulk of timber left on the ground by some
workmen that morning, and he sat down suddenly in the mud.
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