uddenly took offence.

"No," he said; "we can't have that!"

"Can't have what?"

"You can't be a gentleman, because you aren't. And you can't play
Beatrice is your wife. It's--it's impertinent."

"But" I said, and looked at her.

Some earlier grudge in the day's affairs must have been in Archie's
mind. "We let you play with us," said Archie; "but we can't have things
like that."

"What rot!" said Beatrice. "He can if he likes."

But he carried his point. I let him carry it, and only began to grow
angry three or four minutes later. Then we were still discussing play
and disputing about another game. Nothing seemed right for all of us.

"We don't want you to play with us at all," said Archie.

"Yes, we do," said Beatrice.

"He drops his aitches like anything."

"No, 'e doesn't," said I, in the heat of the moment.

"There you go!" he cried. "E, he says. E! E! E!"

He pointed a finger at me. He had struck to the heart of my shame. I
made the only possible reply by a rush at him. "Hello!" he cried, at my
blackavised attack. He dropped back into an attitude that had some style
in it, parried my blow, got back at my cheek, and laughed with surprise
and relief at his own success. Whereupon I became a thing of murderous
rage. He could box as well or better than I--he had yet to realise I
knew anything of that at all--but I had fought once or twice to a finish
with bare fists. I was used to inflicting and enduring savage hurting,
and I doubt if he had ever fought. I hadn't fought ten seconds before
I felt this softness in him, realised all that quality of modern
upper-class England that never goes to the quick, that hedges about
rules and those petty points of honour that are the ultimate comminution
of honour, that claims credit for things demonstrably half done. He
seemed to think that first hit of his and one or two others were going
to matter, that I ought to give in when presently my lip bled and
dripped blood upon my clothes. So before we had been at it a minute
he had ceased to be aggressive except in momentary spurts, and I was
knocking him about almost as I wanted to do; and demanding breathlessly
and fiercely, after our school manner, whether he had had enough, not
knowing that by his high code and his soft training it was equally
impossible for him to either buck-up and beat me, or give in.

I have a very distinct impression of Beatrice dancing about us during
the affair in a state of unladylike apprec