"
"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
go home!"
"Alas! my child, what would be the good of that? If you went off
tonight instead of coming to Moscow, it might create a talk; what we
want is to prevent a scandal, to hush everything up. None of these men
will tell, and your name will not be dragged into it. And if we go on
our trip amicably as was arranged it will discountenance rumor. Gritzko
and Boris are quite friends again. And if anything about the shooting
does leak out, if no one has further cause for connecting you with it,
they will generally think it merely one of Gritzko's mad parties.
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