I felt, as we shook hands, that it was
much the same sort of handshake that one sees in the prize ring--
to be followed by the clang of a bell, then all going to it, in
battle royal, with the devil after the hindmost.
There was scarcely a chance for a preliminary bout before luncheon
was announced, and we entered the cozy little dining-room to seat
ourselves at the daintiest of tables. One could feel the hostess
radiating hospitality, even on such a cross-current set of guests
as we were, and for the time, I almost felt that it had been
Kennedy's purpose to promote a love-feast instead of an armed
truce.
Nothing was said about the main cause of our being together for
some time, and the small talk almost lifted for a time the incubus
that had settled down on all our lives since the tragedy in the
den at the other end of the suite. But the fact could not be
blinked.
Tacitly every one seemed to wait on Kennedy to sound the gong.
Finally he did so.
"Of course," he began, clearing his throat, "there is no use
making believe about anything. I think we all understand each
other better now than we have ever done before. As for me, I am in
this case under a promise to stick to it and fight it to the end.
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