His brows knit in a frown, and his lips shut tight.
"Ay, but though you won't fire, you'll destroy the letter," he sneered.
"I know your fine distinctions." "Again I beg your pardon.

You know very well that, although all Strelsau were at the door, I wouldn't touch the letter." With an angry muttered oath Rupert flung his revolver on the table.
Rudolf came forward and laid his by it.

Then he took up both, and, crossing to the mantelpiece, laid them there; between there he placed the queen's letter.

A bright blaze burnt in the grate; it needed but the slightest motion of his hand to set the letter beyond all danger.

But he placed it carefully on the mantelpiece, and, with a slight smile on his face, turned to Rupert, saying: "Now shall we resume the bout that Fritz von Tarlenheim interrupted in the forest of Zenda ?" All this while they had been speaking in subdued accents, resolution in one, anger in the other, keeping the voice in an even, deliberate lowness.