Too kind indeed! kind enough to be glad when the object of all her kindness was dead!  For she was glad!  I could see that in the murderous glitter of her eyes.

“You are not sorry?” I inquired, with an air of pretended surprise.

“Sorry?  Not at all!  Why should I be?  He was a very agreeable friend while my husband was alive to keep him in order, but after my poor Fabio’s death, his treatment of me was quite unbearable.”

Take care, beautiful hypocrite! take care!  Take care lest your “poor Fabio’s” fingers should suddenly nip your slim throat with a convulsive twitch that means death!  Heaven only knows how I managed to keep my hands off her at that moment!  Why, any groveling beast of the field had more feeling than this wretch whom I had made my wife!  Even for Guido’s sake—­such are the strange inconsistencies of the human heart—­I could have slain her then.  But I restrained my fury; I steadied my voice and said calmly:  “Then I was mistaken?  I thought you would be deeply grieved, that my news would shock and annoy you greatly, hence my gravity and apparent coldness.  But it seems I have done well?”

She sprung up from her chair like a pleased child and flung her arms round my neck.

“You are brave, you are brave!” she exclaimed, in a sort of exultation.  “You could not have done otherwise!  He insulted you and you killed him.  That was right!  I love you all the more for being such a man of honor!”

I looked down upon her in loathing and disgust.  Honor!  Its very name was libeled coming from her lips.  She did not notice the expression of my face—­she was absorbed, excellent actress as she was, in the part she had chosen to play.

“And so you were dull and sad because you feared to grieve me!  Poor Cesare!” she said, in child-like caressing accents, such as she could assume when she chose.  “But now that you see I am not unhappy, you will be cheerful again?  Yes?  Think how much I love you, and how happy we will be!  And see, you have given me such lovely jewels, so many of them too, that I scarcely dare offer you such a trifle as this; but as it really belonged to Fabio, and to Fabio’s father, whom you knew, I think you ought to have it.  Will you take it and wear it to please me?” and she slipped on my finger the diamond signet—­my own ring!

I could have laughed aloud! but I bent my head gravely as I accepted it.

“Only as a proof of your affection, cara mia,” I said, “though it has a terrible association for me.  I took it from Ferrari’s hand when—­”

“Oh, yes, I know!” she interrupted me with a little shiver; “it must have been trying for you to have seen him dead.  I think dead people look so horrid—­the sight upsets the nerves!  I remember when I was at school here, they would take me to see a nun who died; it sickened me and made me ill for days.  I can quite understand your feelings.  But you must try and forget the matter.  Duels are very common occurrences, after all!”