That same night I
came home at one o'clock and you were out. You had gone out alone
with that man, expecting that I would not return so soon--though
it was late enough, too. You were forced to admit that you were
with him, because the porter had seen you and had told me the man
was a Zouave."
"I will tell you the story, since you no longer trust me," said
Corona, proudly.
"I have no doubt you will tell me some very ingenious tale which
will explain why, although you left my house alone, with Gouache,
you reached the Palazzo Montevarchi alone with Faustina. But I
have not done. He came here the next day. You treated him with
unexampled rudeness before me. Half an hour later I found you
together in the drawing-room. He was kissing your hand again. You
were saying you forgave him and giving him that favourite
benediction of yours, which you once bestowed upon me under very
similar circumstances. Astrardente was alive and present at that
dance in Casa Frangipani. You have me for a husband now and you
have found another man whose heart will beat when you bless him.
It would be almost better to kill you after all."
"Have you finished?" asked Corona, white with anger.
"Yes. That letter and that pin--left while I, poor fool, was
waiting for you this afternoon on the Pincio--those things are my
last words.
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