But impossible as the other case seemed, Orsino did not neglect it.  His mind was developing with his character and was acquiring the habit of foreseeing difficulties in order to forestall them.  If Maria Consuelo returned suddenly to her original point of view maintaining that the promise given to her dying husband was still binding, Orsino determined that he would go to Spicca in a last resort.  Whatever the bond which united them, it was clear that Spicca possessed some kind of power over Maria Consuelo, and that he was so far acquainted with all the circumstances of her previous life as to be eminently capable of giving Orsino advice for the future.

He went to his office on the following morning with little inclination for work.  It would be more just, perhaps, to say that he felt the desire to pursue his usual occupation while conscious that his mind was too much disturbed by the events of the previous afternoon to concentrate itself upon the details of accounts and plans.  He found himself committing all sorts of errors of oversight quite unusual with him.  Figures seemed to have lost their value and plans their meaning.  With the utmost determination he held himself to his task, not willing to believe that his judgment and nerve could be so disturbed as to render him unfit for any serious business.  But the result was contemptible as compared with the effort.

Andrea Contini, too, was inclined to take a gloomy view of things, contrary to his usual habit.  A report was spreading to the effect that a certain big contractor was on the verge of bankruptcy, a man who had hitherto been considered beyond the danger of heavy loss.  There had been more than one small failure of late, but no one had paid much attention to such accidents which were generally attributed to personal causes rather than to an approaching turn in the tide of speculation.  But Contini chose to believe that a crisis was not far off.  He possessed in a high degree that sort of caution which is valuable rather in an assistant than in a chief.  Orsino was little inclined to share his architect’s despondency for the present.

“You need a change of air,” he said, pushing a heap of papers away from him and lighting a cigarette.  “You ought to go down to Porto d’Anzio for a few days.  You have been too long in the heat.”

“No longer than you, Don Orsino,” answered Contini, from his own table.

“You are depressed and gloomy.  You have worked harder than I. You should really go out of town for a day or two.”

“I do not feel the need of it.”

Contini bent over his table again and a short silence followed.  Orsino’s mind instantly reverted to Maria Consuelo.  He felt a violent desire to leave the office and go to her at once.  There was no reason why he should not visit her in the morning if he pleased.  At the worst, she might refuse to receive him.  He was thinking how she would look, and wondering whether she would smile or meet him with earnest half regretful eyes, when Contini’s voice broke into his meditations again.