“You do not do the poor woman justice, Manutoli.”

“Any way, I do you justice; and I know you well enough, Ludovico mio, to understand that the generosity of such a girl as this poor Lalli was, taking that special form, must have been very touching to you.”

“You forget, Manutoli, how little accessible I was to the flattery of any such preference, with my whole heart full of a very different person.”

“And I was just thinking, to tell you the truth, how the little scene in the bagarino would have struck that other person if she could have seen La Bianca giving you to understand, amid her tears, upon what terms she would consent not to come between you and your natural inheritance.”

“That other person did see us in the bagarino; and that brings me to the motive which led me to beg you to come to me this evening.  Somehow or other, it has become known to these people here that Paolina went out of the Porta Nuova at a very early hour this morning.  The fact is, that she simply went to see whether the scaffolding, which I had had prepared for her copying work there, was all right, and ready for her to begin her task there; and all that can be proved, of course.  But the same idea that occurred to you just now, that Paolina might not have liked to see me driving with La Bianca, has suggested itself to some other wiseacre,—­I beg your pardon, Manutoli,—­and it seems that an absurd notion—­a notion the monstrous absurdity of which is a matter of amazement to me—­has been engendered that my poor Paolina may have been the perpetrator of the crime.  The idea!  If they only knew her!  But the Commissary here has been cross-questioning me in a way that shows that is the notion he has in his head.  Whether they know that Paolina really did see us in the bagarino together—­she did so from the window in the Church of St. Apollinare—­or whether they only know that she left the city by that gate early in the morning, I can’t tell; but it is sure to be found out that she did really see us,—­the more so, that she will say so to the first person who asks her” the poor innocent darling.  And what I want you do is to see her, and prepare her, poor child, for the possibility of being arrested, and make her understand that no harm can possibly come to her.  Try to save her from being frightened.  She knows well enough, just as well as I know myself, that I have not done this thing.  Try to make her understand that a little time only is necessary for the finding out of the real culprit; that it is sure to be discovered, and that, as far as we are concerned, it is all sure to come right.”

“You wish me to go to her at once?”