"You see, Malatesta, I was right," drawls out the languid Franchi as
he descends the stairs. "You will believe me another time. You know
I told you and Orsetti that Nera Boccarini and Nobili understood each
other. He's desperately in love with her."

"I don't believe it, all the same," answers Malatesta, shaking his
head. "A man can't half kill a girl and show no compunction--specially
not Nobili--the best-hearted fellow breathing. Nobili is just the man
to feel such an accident as that dreadfully. How splendid Nera looked
to-night! She quite cut out the Ottolini." Malatesta spoke with
enthusiasm; he had a practised eye for woman's fine points. "Here,
Adonis--I beg your pardon--Baldassare, I mean--where are you going?"

"Home," replies the Greek mask.

"Never mind home; we are all obliged to you. You lead the cotillon
admirably."

Baldassare smiles, and shows two rows of faultless teeth.

"Come and have some supper with us at the Universo. Franchi is coming,
and all our set."

"With the greatest pleasure," replies Baldassare, smiling.




PART II.