"It is no matter," Miss Wentstile said stiffly.
A ring of the bell brought Graham to repair the damage as far as might be, and in the confusion the Count moved aside with the widow.
"That was not done with your usual skill, Count," she said mockingly. "It was much too violent for the occasion."
"But for what you speak of Monaco here?" he demanded fiercely. "De old Mees Wentsteele say dat to play de card for money ees villain. She say eet is murderous. She say she weel not to endure de man dat have gamboled."
"And you have gamboled in a lively manner in your time, Count. It's an old pun, but it would be new to you if you could understand it."
"I don't understand," he said savagely in French.
"No matter. It wasn't worth understanding," she answered, in the same tongue. "But you needn't have been afraid. I'm no spoil-sport. I shouldn't have told."
"She is an old prude," he went on, smiling, and showing his white teeth. "If she knew I had been in a duel, she would know me no more."
"She will not know from me."
"As lovely and as kind as ever," he responded. "Ah, when I remember those days, when I was young, and you were just as you are now—"