He thought of the interview and his vanity dreaded it.  Another plan suggested itself to him.  On the whole, it seemed easier to bear his dependence on Del Ferice than to confess himself beaten.  There was nothing dishonourable, nothing which could be called so at least, in accepting financial accommodation from a man whose business it was to lend money on security.  If Del Ferice chose to advance sums which his bank would not advance, he did it for good reasons of his own and certainly not in the intention of losing by it in the end.  In case of failure Del Ferice would take the buildings for the debt and would certainly in that case get them for much less than they were worth.  Orsino would be no worse off than when he had begun, he would frankly confess that though he had lost nothing he had not made a fortune, and the matter would be at an end.  That would be very much easier to bear than the humiliation of confessing at the present moment that he was in Del Ferice’s power and would be bankrupt but for Del Ferice’s personal help.  And again he repeated to himself that Del Ferice was not a man to throw money away without hope of recovery with interest.  It was inconceivable, too, that Ugo should have pushed him so far merely to flatter a young man’s vanity.  He meant to make use of him, or to make money out of his failure.  In either case Orsino would be his dupe and would not be under any obligation to him.  Compared with the necessity of acknowledging the present state of his affairs to his father, the prospect of being made a tool of by Del Ferice was bearable, not to say attractive.

“What had we better do, Contini?” he asked at length.

“There is nothing to be done but to go on, I suppose, until we are ruined,” replied the architect.  “Even if we had the money, we should gain nothing by taking off all our bills as they fall due, instead of renewing them.”

“But if the bank will not discount any more—­”

“Del Ferice will, in the bank’s name.  When he is ready for the failure, we shall fail and he will profit by our loss.”

“Do you think that is what he means to do?”

Contini looked at Orsino in surprise.

“Of course.  What did you expect?  You do not suppose that he means to make us a present of that paper, or to hold it indefinitely until we can make a good sale.”

“And he will ultimately get possession of all the paper himself.”

“Naturally.  As the old bills fall due we shall renew them with him, practically, and not with the bank.  He knows what he is about.  He probably has some scheme for selling the whole block to the government, or to some institution, and is sure of his profit beforehand.  Our failure will give him a profit of twenty-five or thirty per cent.”

Orsino was strangely reassured by his partner’s gloomy view.  To him every word proved that he was free from any personal obligation to Del Ferice and might accept the latter’s assistance without the least compunction.  He did not like to remember that a man of Ugo’s subtle intelligence might have something more important in view than a profit of a few hundred thousand francs, if indeed the sum should amount to that.  Orsino’s brow cleared and his expression changed.