As for the way he yelled after Spicca, it looked as though there were a duel in the air--fancy the old fellow fighting a duel! Too ridiculous!" "A duel!" repeated Corona in a low voice.
"I do not see anything so very ridiculous in it," said the diplomatist, slowly twisting his glass of champagne in his fingers, and then sipping it.

"Besides," he added deliberately, glancing at the Duchessa from the corner of his eyes, "he has a son." Corona started very slightly.
"Why should there be a duel ?" she asked.
"It was your husband who suggested the idea," returned the diplomatist.
"But you said there was nothing ridiculous in it," objected the Duchessa.
"But I did not say there was any truth in it, either," answered his Excellency with a reassuring smile.

"What made you think of duelling ?" he asked, turning to Astrardente.
"Spicca," said the latter.

"Wherever Spicca is concerned there is a duel.
He is a terrible fellow, with his death's-head and dangling bones--one of those extraordinary phenomena--bah! it makes one shiver to think of him!" The old fellow made the sign of the horns with his forefinger and little finger, hiding his thumb in the palm of his hand, as though to protect himself against the evil eye--the sinister influence invoked by the mention of Spicca.

Old Astrardente was very superstitious.