"I am speaking to Madame, your Highness," came sharply.

"We do not speak off the stage," said the singer, pushing the duke aside.

"I should like to make that young man's acquaintance," whispered the
duke.

She warned him to be silent.

Came the voice again: "Will you give me her address, please? Your
messenger gave me your address, inferring that you wished to see me."

"I?" There was no impeaching her astonishment.

"Yes, Madame."

"My dear Mr. Courtlandt, you are the last man in all the wide world I wish
to see. And I do not quite like the way you are making your request. His
highness does not either."

"Send him down!"

"That is true."

"What is?"

"I remember. You are very strong and much given to fighting."

The duke opened and shut his hands, pleasurably. Here was something he
could understand. He was a fighting man himself. Where was this going to
end, and what was it all about?

"Do you not think, Madame, that you owe me something?"

"No. What I owe I pay. Think, Mr. Courtlandt; think well."

"I do not understand," impatiently.

"_Ebbene_, I owe you nothing. Once I heard you say--'I do not like to see
you with the Calabrian; she is--Well, you know.' I stood behind you at
another time when you said that I was a fool."

"Madame, I do not forget that, that is pure invention. You are mistaken."

"No. You were. I am no fool." A light laugh drifted down the tube.

"Madame, I begin to see."

"Ah!"

"You believe what you wish to believe."

"I think not."

"I never even noticed you," carelessly.

"Take care!" whispered the duke, who noted the sudden dilation of her
nostrils.

"It is easy to forget," cried the diva, furiously. "It is easy for you to
forget, but not for me."

"Madame, I do not forget that you entered my room that night ..."

"Your address!" bawled the duke. "That statement demands an explanation."

"I should explain at once, your Highness," said the man down below calmly,
"only I prefer to leave that part in Madame's hands. I should not care to
rob her of anything so interesting and dramatic. Madame the duchess can
explain, if she wishes. I am stopping at the Grand, if you find her
explanations are not up to your requirements."

"I shall give you her address," interrupted the diva, hastily. The duke's
bristling beard for one thing and the ice in the other man's tones for
another, disquieted her. The play had gone far enough, much as she would
have liked to continue