THE AMERICAN
"My dear friend"—Valentin was perfectly patient with him—you can't invent anything that will take the place of satisfaction for an insult. To demand it and to give it are equally excellent arrangements."
"Do you call this sort of thing satisfaction?" Newman groaned. "Does it satisfy you to put yourself at the disposal of a bigger fool even than yourself? I 'd see him somewhere first! Does it satisfy you that he should set up this ridiculous relation with you? I 'd like to see him try anything of the sort with me! If a man has a bad intention on you it's his own affair till it takes effect; but when it does, give him one in the eye. If you don't know how to do that—straight—you're not fit to go round alone. But I'm talking of those who claim they are, and that they don't require some one to take care of them."
"Well," Valentin smiled, "it would be interesting truly to go round with you. But to get the full good of that, alas, I should have begun earlier!"
Newman could scarcely bear even the possible pertinence of his "alas." "See here," he said at the last: "if any one ever hurts you again—!"
"Well, mon bon?"—and Valentin, with his eyes on his friend's, might now have been much moved.
"Come straight to me about it. I' ll go for him."
"Matamore!" the young man laughed as they parted.
