Bernard Capes

“ I love Mademoiselle Suzanne, Nicanor.”
“I love Mademoiselle Suzanne, Miguel.”
“Very well. Then I yield her to you.”
“Oh, pardon me, Miguel; but that is just the point. I wanted to save you the pain—the sense of self-renunciation; but your blindness confounds me. More people know Tom Fool than Tom Fool knows. Your infatuation for Mademoiselle Suzanne is very plain to very many. What is plain only to yourself is that Mademoiselle Suzanne returns your devotion. You are not, indeed, justified in that belief.” ”

“ Miguel, starting away, and leaving Nicanor with his back to the closet, produced and pointed his weapon at the trembling creature. These South Americans were a strange compound of sweetness and ferocity. “If you interfere,” he said, “I will shoot you instead.—Now, Nicanor; we fire at discretion, one shot to each.”
The bang of Nicanor’s pistol shattered the emptiness. Miguel was down on the floor. Nicanor cast away his reeking weapon, and, running to his friend, raised his body in his arms. The door of the closet opened, and Suzanne, radiant and gloating, stood in the entry. ”

“ An appointment? Alas! such is always the least considered of their many engagements.”
As he spoke, Miguel came in. The two eyed one another blankly after the first shock. At length Nicanor spoke: the door between the closet and the café opened a little.
“You have discovered, then? Go away, my poor friend. This is, indeed, the worst occasion for our reconciliation.”
“I did not come to seek you, Nicanor. I came to meet Mademoiselle Suzanne alone, by appointment.” ”