"Oh! Marraine, how dreadful!" Tamara said.

"It is perhaps not a very civilized game," the Princess continued, "but
we are not discussing that, I am telling you what occurred. Well, from
this point Valonne and the rest were eyewitnesses. Gritzko and Boris,
still laughing in rather a strained way, said they had some slight
difference of opinion to settle, and had decided to do it in the
ballroom, in the dark. I won't go into details of how many steps to the
right or left, the impromptu seconds arranged, only it was settled when
Sasha at one end and Serge at the other should shut the doors they
should both fire, and if in three times neither was shot, both should
give up their claim."

"It is too horrible! and for such a trifle," Tamara said, clutching the
bedclothes, and the Princess went on.

"Valonne said they were both hit in the first round, and all the
company burst into the room. Nothing seemed very serious, and they
laughed and shook hands. So Valonne left to be in time for the ball,
but this morning, he told me, he found Boris Varishkine had had a
shoulder wound which bled very badly and quite prevented his coming,
while Gritzko was shot through the flesh of the right arm, and as soon
as they could bind it up decently, as you know, he came on."

Tamara's face was as white as her pillow. She clasped her hands with a
movement of anguish.

"Oh! Marraine, I am too unhappy," she wailed. "Indeed, indeed, I did
nothing to cause this. You heard me, I only said to Count Varishkine I
was looking forward to the dance. He is impossible, Gritzko. Oh! let me