Zarka hesitated with a grin and a shrug. “As I am in the somewhat delicate position of being the indirect, even if not the direct, cause of the affair, I fear I must not speak very plainly. I don’t pretend to be more modest than the average, but there is a code among men of honour which forbids boasting. But what do you think, gentlemen, of a duel, a serious duel, with rapiers at night between two ladies?”
Galabin glanced apprehensively from the sinister smiling face to that of his friend, and began to regret his curiosity. Von Tressen’s look was set, and he made no sign of joining in the talk.
“Between ladies? Absurd!” Galabin laughed.
“Absurd enough in one way,” Zarka returned, “yet very serious in another. I wish Fräulein d’Ivady’s wound were as absurd as its cause.”
It was Galabin’s intention to make an attempt to dismiss the subject, but before he could do so Von Tressen spoke.
“You say, Count, that Fräulein d’Ivady has fought a duel with another lady.”
Zarka smiled. “So it appears.”
“And you really believe it?”
“Unhappily the evidence is too strong to do otherwise.”
“Is the name of her opponent a secret?”