"May I have a word with you?" Nina said, with a little hesitation.
"Yes; what is it?" the other demanded, abruptly.
"But--but in private?" Nina said again. "In your room?"
"Oh, very well, come in!" Miss Burgoyne said, with but scant courtesy;
and she led the way into her sitting-room, and also intimated to her
maid that she might retire into the inner apartment. Then she turned to
Nina.
"What is it you want?"
But the crisis found Nina quite unprepared. She had constructed no set
speech; she had formulated no demand. For a second or so she stood
tongue-tied--tongue-tied and helpless--unable to put her passionate
appeal into words; then, all of a sudden, she said,
"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.
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