“I should be glad to please you, mademoiselle, but—”
She hurried on. “First, when are they going to fight? Oh, tell me, tell me! I know you were to be with him. I know you are his friend. Be mine too! What harm can it do? I swear I will keep it secret.”
“Ah, well, if you promise that,” he said. “It is to be to-morrow afternoon.”
“Where?”
He shook his head. “I really cannot tell you that.”
“Well, the hour is fixed. It will not be changed?”
“No, the Prince preferred the early morning, but Michelin has an appointment he must keep with Vandervelde at noon.”
“Nothing will persuade him to alter it then?” she insisted.
“Nothing.”
“That is well,” she said sighing. “Good-bye, M’sieur Gontrand. You—you will do your best for Camille.”