He is an old man and I am a young one, and have no
intention of taking offence. He may say what he pleases, call me a
villain, a brigand--that is your favourite Italian expression--a
thief, a liar, anything he pleases. I will not be angry. There
shall be no violence. But I cannot endure this state of things any
longer. I must try my luck."
"Wait a little longer," answered Faustina, in an imploring tone.
"Wait until the suit is decided."
"In order to let San Giacinto get even more influence than he has
now? It would be a mistake--you almost said so yourself a moment
ago. Besides, the suit may for years."
"It will not last a fortnight."
"Poor Sant' Ilario!" exclaimed Gouache. "Does everybody know about
it?"
"I suppose so. But nobody speaks of it. We all feel dreadfully
about it, except my father and San Giacinto and Flavia."
"If he is in a good humour this is the very time to go to him."
"Please, please do not insist!" Faustina was evidently very much
in earnest. With the instinct of a very young woman, she clung to
the half happiness of the present which was so much greater than
anything she had known before in her life. But Gouache would not
be satisfied.
"I must know the worst," he said again, as they parted.
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