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Updated: June 7, 2025
One of Ugo's favourite methods of pleasing his wife was to assert that she was too young to remember people who had indeed played a part as lately as after the death of her first husband. It always soothed her. "I remember them all," he continued. "Old Montevarchi, and Frangipani, and poor Casalverde and a score of others."
"Well perhaps not," returned Valdarno, doubtfully. "At all events, you know that Spicca flew into a passion because poor Casalverde forgot to step in after he cried halt; and then Del Ferice ran Giovanni through the arm." "That was highly improper most reprehensible," said Astrardente, putting up his eyeglass to look at a pretty little sempstress who hurried past on her way to her work.
But Giovanni pressed him, and suddenly made a peculiar movement with his foil, bringing it in contact with his enemy's along its length. "Halt!" cried Casalverde. Both men lowered their weapons instantly, and the seconds sprang forward and touched their swords between them. Giovanni bit his lip angrily. "Why 'halt'?" asked the Prince, sharply. "Neither is touched."
Yes, in the way you are a Liberal, and Donna Tullia Mayer, and Spicca himself, who has just killed that other Liberal, Casalverde. Liberals indeed! Do you flatter yourself for a moment that Antonelli is afraid of such Liberals as you are? Do you think the life of Del Ferice is of any more importance to politics than the life of that dog there?"
I can quite understand that Del Ferice might in the excitement of the moment have lunged at me after the halt was cried, but I cannot understand how Casalverde could be so infamous as not to cross his sword when he himself called. It looked very much like a preconcerted arrangement. Casalverde deserved to die, for the safety of society.
"Spicca has killed Casalverde the man who seconded Del Ferice yesterday, killed him on the spot " Corona uttered an exclamation of horror. "And they say Del Ferice is dead, or just dying" his cracked voice rose at every word; "and they say," he almost screamed, laying his withered hand roughly upon his wife's shoulder, "they say that the duel was about you you, do you understand?"
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