It had always amused Sabina to watch how the Baroness’s manner changed when any one appeared whom she did not know very well.  Her mouth assumed a stereotyped smile, she held her head a little forward and on one side, and she spoke in quite another tone.  But just now Sabina did not notice these things.  She was renewing her impression of Malipieri, whom she had only seen once and in evening dress.  She liked him even better now, she thought, and it would have pleased her to look at him longer.

Their eyes met in a glance as he told the Baroness that he had come to see Volterra on a matter of business.  He did not explain what the business was, and at once began to talk of other things, as if to escape possible questions.  Sabina thought he was paler than before, or less sunburnt, perhaps; at all events, the contrast between his very white forehead and his bronzed face was less strong.  She could see his eyes more distinctly, too, than she had seen them in the evening, and she liked their expression better, for he did not look at all bored now.  She liked his voice, too, for the slight harshness that seemed always ready to command.  She liked the man altogether, and was conscious of the fact, and wished she could talk with him again, as she had talked that evening on the sofa in the corner, without fear of interruption.

That was impossible, and she listened to what he said.  It was merely the small talk of a man of the world who knows that he is expected to say something not altogether dull, and takes pains to be agreeable, but Sabina felt all through it a sort of sympathy which she missed very much in the Volterra household, the certainty of fellowship which people who have been brought up in similar surroundings feel when they meet in an atmosphere not their own.

A few minutes after he had come, a servant opened the door and said that the Baron wished to speak to the Baroness at the telephone.  She rose, hesitated a moment and went out, leaving the two young people together.

“I have seen Sassi,” said Malipieri in a low voice, as soon as the door was shut.

“Yes,” answered Sabina, with a little interrogation.

She was very much surprised to hear a slight tremor in her own voice as she uttered the one word.

“I like him very much,” Malipieri continued.  “He is a good friend to you.  He said that if anything of importance happened he would come and see you.”

“I shall be glad,” Sabina said.

“Something is happening, which may bring him.  Be sure to see him alone, when he comes.”

“Yes, but what is it?  What can possibly happen that can make a difference?”

Malipieri glanced at the door, fearing that the Baroness might enter suddenly.

“Can you keep a secret?” he asked quickly.

“Of course!  Tell me!” She leaned forward with eager interest, expecting his next words.

“Did you ever hear that something very valuable is said to be hidden somewhere under the palace?”