Condore was utterly terrified: "What? What do you mean?"
Lasalle: "What, you don't understand French?"
"No, I understand, I mean..."
"Understand yet still ask me what I mean?" Lasalle looked at Condore in disbelief, "Is there any specialized term in my words that you can't comprehend? Even if you don't understand my words, you should at least understand the meaning of throwing a glove, right?"
Condore: "No, I... I am a civilized person, I do not engage in such crude activities."
Lasalle laughed heartily then snatched back his glove: "Forget it, dueling with someone like you would be an insult to my honor."
Condore breathed a sigh of relief, his expression relaxing.
Then in that moment, Lasalle drew his saber and placed it against Condore's neck: "You don't deserve a duel; you deserve to die here like a dog."
Although Condore was securely bound and couldn't move, he managed to express his feelings with urine, as a small wet stain appeared on his trousers and expanded visibly.
