‘I am afraid I have hardly made myself understood,’ said Agnes.  ’I am not speaking to you out of any interest in Ferrari.  Are you aware that he is married?’

‘I pity his wife,’ said Mrs. Rolland.

‘She is naturally in great grief about him,’ Agnes proceeded.

‘She ought to thank God she is rid of him,’ Mrs. Rolland interposed.

Agnes still persisted.  ’I have known Mrs. Ferrari from her childhood, and I am sincerely anxious to help her in this matter.  Did you notice anything, while you were at Venice, that would account for her husband’s extraordinary disappearance?  On what sort of terms, for instance, did he live with his master and mistress?’

‘On terms of familiarity with his mistress,’ said Mrs. Rolland, ’which were simply sickening to a respectable English servant.  She used to encourage him to talk to her about all his affairs—­ how he got on with his wife, and how pressed he was for money, and such like—­just as if they were equals.  Contemptible—­that’s what I call it.’

‘And his master?’ Agnes continued.  ’How did Ferrari get on with Lord Montbarry?’

‘My lord used to live shut up with his studies and his sorrows,’ Mrs. Rolland answered, with a hard solemnity expressive of respect for his lordship’s memory.  Mr. Ferrari got his money when it was due; and he cared for nothing else.  “If I could afford it, I would leave the place too; but I can’t afford it.”  Those were the last words he said to me, on the morning when I left the palace.  I made no reply.  After what had happened (on that other occasion) I was naturally not on speaking terms with Mr. Ferrari.’

’Can you really tell me nothing which will throw any light on this matter?’

‘Nothing,’ said Mrs. Rolland, with an undisguised relish of the disappointment that she was inflicting.

‘There was another member of the family at Venice,’ Agnes resumed, determined to sift the question to the bottom while she had the chance.  ‘There was Baron Rivar.’

Mrs. Rolland lifted her large hands, covered with rusty black gloves, in mute protest against the introduction of Baron Rivar as a subject of inquiry.  ‘Are you aware, Miss,’ she began, ’that I left my place in consequence of what I observed—?’

Agnes stopped her there.  ‘I only wanted to ask,’ she explained, ’if anything was said or done by Baron Rivar which might account for Ferrari’s strange conduct.’

‘Nothing that I know of,’ said Mrs. Rolland.  ’The Baron and Mr. Ferrari (if I may use such an expression) were “birds of a feather,” so far as I could see—­I mean, one was as unprincipled as the other.  I am a just woman; and I will give you an example.  Only the day before I left, I heard the Baron say (through the open door of his room while I was passing along the corridor), “Ferrari, I want a thousand pounds.  What would you do for a thousand pounds?” And I heard Mr. Ferrari answer, “Anything, sir, as long as I was not found out.”  And then they both burst out laughing.  I heard no more than that.  Judge for yourself, Miss.’