Valdarno's stables were near the club, and on pretence of showing a new horse to Astrardente, he nodded to his friends, and left the room with the aged dandy.

It was a clear, bright winter's morning, and the two men strolled slowly down the Corso towards Valdarno's palace.
"You know, of course, how the affair began ?" asked the young man.
"The first duel?
Nobody knows--certainly not I." "Well--perhaps not," returned Valdarno, doubtfully.

"At all events, you know that Spicca flew into a passion because poor Casalverde forgot to step in after he cried halt; and then Del Ferice ran Giovanni through the arm." "That was highly improper--most reprehensible," said Astrardente, putting up his eyeglass to look at a pretty little sempstress who hurried past on her way to her work.
"I suppose so.

But Casalverde certainly meant no harm; and if Del Ferice had not been so unlucky as to forget himself in the excitement of the moment, no one would have thought anything of it." "Ah yes, I suppose not," murmured Astrardente, still looking after the girl.

When he could see her face no longer, he turned sharply back to Valdarno.
"This is exceedingly interesting," he said.