All that confidence, born of irony, disappeared; and fear laid hold of him. Two shots were fired, and presently the clashing of swords was heard below. Before he even glanced at the man on the floor he stepped over to her side and took the poker from her. She continued to fan herself. He stood before her. “Serves you right if I’d cracked your skull. There wasn’t, I know, between myself and my father. Meantime, as the doctor was splitting his breakfast orange, he heard a commotion in his office, two rooms removed: volleys of pidgin English, one voice in protest, the other dominant. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. "You know what I mean," said the trader, gravely.
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