"That was highly improper—most reprehensible," said Astrardente, putting up his eyeglass to look at a pretty little sempstress who hurried past on her way to her work.
"I suppose so. But Casalverde certainly meant no harm; and if Del Ferice had not been so unlucky as to forget himself in the excitement of the moment, no one would have thought anything of it."
"Ah yes, I suppose not," murmured Astrardente, still looking after the girl. When he could see her face no longer, he turned sharply back to Valdarno.
"This is exceedingly interesting," he said. "Tell me more about it."
"Well, when it was over, old Saracinesca was for killing Casalverde himself."
"The old fire-eater! He ought to be ashamed of himself."
"However, Spicca was before him, and challenged Casalverde then and there. As both the principals in the first duel were so badly wounded, it had to be put off until this morning."
"They went out, and—piff, paff! Spicca ran him through," interrupted
Astrardente. "What a horrible tragedy!"
"Ah yes; and what is worse—"
"What surprises me most," interrupted the Duca again, "is that in this delightfully peaceful and paternally governed little nest of ours, the authorities should not have been able to prevent either of these duels. It is perfectly amazing! I cannot remember a parallel instance. Do you mean to say that there was not a sbirro or a gendarme in the neighbourhood to-day nor yesterday?"