did not even recoil from the idea of crime.

"Monsieur l'Abbe is acquainted with the situation," sadly murmured old
Orlando.

His son responded by a wave of the hand, as though to say that everybody
was acquainted with it. "Ah! father," he added, "but for you I should
never have consented to take part in those proceedings for annulling the
marriage! The Countess would have found herself compelled to return here,
and would not nowadays be deriding us with her lover, that cousin of
hers, Dario!"

At this Orlando also waved his hand, as if in protest.

"Oh! it's a fact, father," continued Luigi. "Why did she flee from here
if it wasn't to go and live with her lover? And indeed, in my opinion,
it's scandalous that a Cardinal's palace should shelter such goings-on!"

This was the report which he spread abroad, the accusation which he
everywhere levelled against his wife, of publicly carrying on a shameless
/liaison/. In reality, however, he did not believe a word of it, being
too well acquainted with Benedetta's firm rectitude, and her
determination to belong to none but the man she loved, and to him only in
marriage. However, in Prada's eyes such accusations were not only fair
play but also very efficacious.

And now, although he turned pale with covert exasperation, and laughed a
hard, vindictive, cruel laugh, he went on to speak in a bantering tone of
the proceedings for annulling the marriage, and in particular of the plea
put forward by Benedetta's advocate Morano. And at last his language