“You’re not wounded, your Grace?” said Sonia anxiously.
“Not a scratch,” said the Duke, smiling at her.
“Will you be so good as to get on with those wedding-cards, Sonia,” said Germaine sharply; and Sonia went back to the writing-table.
Turning to the Duke, Germaine said, “Did you fight on my account?”
“Would you be pleased to know that I had fought on your account?” said the Duke; and there was a faint mocking light in his eyes, far too faint for the self-satisfied Germaine to perceive.
“Yes. But it isn’t true. You’ve been fighting about some woman,” said Germaine petulantly.
“If I had been fighting about a woman, it could only be you,” said the Duke.
“Yes, that is so. Of course. It could hardly be about Sonia, or my maid,” said Germaine. “But what was the reason of the duel?”
“Oh, the reason of it was entirely childish,” said the Duke. “I was in a bad temper; and De Relzières said something that annoyed me.”
“Then it wasn’t about me; and if it wasn’t about me, it wasn’t really worth while fighting,” said Germaine in a tone of acute disappointment.