"Miss Burgoyne, you will not allow it—this folly! It is madness that they fight about—about nothing! You will not allow it!—what is it to you?—you have enough fame, enough reputation as a prima-donna, as a favorite with the public—what more? Why should you wish more—and at such a dreadful risk?—"
"Oh, I don't know what you're talking about!" said Miss Burgoyne. "What are you talking about?"
"The duel—" said Nina, breathlessly.
"What duel?"
Nina stared at her.
"Ah, you do not know, then?" she exclaimed.
"What don't I know?" Miss Burgoyne said, impatiently. "What are you talking about! What duel? Is it something in the evening papers? Or have you taken leave of your senses?"
Nina paid no heed to these taunts.
"You do not know, then," she asked, "that—that Mr. Moore is going to fight a duel—with a young gentleman who is your friend? No?—you do not know it?"
It was Miss Burgoyne's turn to stare in amazement.