To calm him, he clung to the conviction that the issue could not really be very serious.
If the obligations of Philippe's honour compelled him to cross swords with the man he had struck, M.de La Tour d'Azyr's birth compelled him no less to do no serious hurt to the unfledged lad he had so grievously provoked.

M.le Marquis, after all, was a man of honour.

He could intend no more than to administer a lesson; sharp, perhaps, but one by which his opponent must live to profit.

Andre-Louis clung obstinately to that for comfort.
Steel beat on steel, and the men engaged.

The Marquis presented to his opponent the narrow edge of his upright body, his knees slightly flexed and converted into living springs, whilst M.de Vilmorin stood squarely, a full target, his knees wooden.