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Updated: May 6, 2025
Matilde had been amazed, however, at the impunity he had hitherto enjoyed. The mere fact that the estate had never been handed over by the guardians, of whom she was one and Cardinal Campodonico the third, was probably in itself actionable, had Veronica chosen to protest; and it was an indubitable fact that Gregorio Macomer had taken large sums after the guardianship had legally expired.
They had a municipality, of course, a syndic, and a secretary, and certain head men, to whose authority they were accustomed to appeal in everything generally against the extortion of the stewards who had obeyed Gregorio Macomer. But before Veronica had been in Muro ten days, the municipality was nothing more than the shadow of a name.
As for the Macomer property, she found herself obliged to raise money to meet the mortgages which were due on the first of January after the final catastrophe, since Macomer had used up her income and left her momentarily in difficulties.
Gianluca loves you, Donna Veronica, as men very rarely love women, so immensely, so strongly, that his love is burning up his life in him and it has all been kept from you for some reason or other, while your relations are doing their best to make you marry Bosio Macomer, who can no more be compared with Gianluca della Spina than "
Such a man was Taquisara, the Sicilian, of whom the old Duca della Spina had spoken. He had no permanent abode in Naples, but lived in a hotel down by the public gardens, beyond Santa Lucia; and on the day after the Duca had been to see the Countess Macomer, he strolled up as usual, by short cuts and narrow streets, to see his friend Gianluca in the Spina palace, in the upper part of the city.
They were a gloomy couple, in their black clothes, under the green light, with harassed, mask-like faces. One night, Matilde came in very late. She trod softly on the polished floor, wearing felt slippers. "Elettra sleeps in her dressing-room," she said in a low voice. Macomer looked up, and the twitching of his face began instantly, as though he were going to laugh.
The countess told her always that she should be free to choose one for herself within reasonable limits of age, name, and fortune. Such an heiress, with such a fortune, said Matilde Macomer, could marry whom she pleased. But so far as Veronica had been allowed to see the world, the choice seemed anything but large.
He died lest he should do it, and desperately grasping at the universal strength of death, he cast himself and his weakness into the impregnable stronghold of the grave. It was still early in the morning, and all Naples knew that Count Bosio Macomer had committed suicide on the preceding evening.
Veronica supposed that he was ill from the effects of the poisoning and that he was in some sort of delirium. But she did not pity him, and was relentless. She moved nearer to her aunt. "Answer me!" she said sternly. "This is the last time. If you deny the truth now, I will go to the chief of police at once." "Oh! poor old Pulcinella!" cried Macomer, laughing gently. "How she gives it to him!"
And on the other side there is ruin, a public trial, a conviction and penal servitude for your own brother, Gregorio, Count Macomer, and Matilde Serra, his wife." "My God! What a choice!" exclaimed Bosio, pressing both his cold hands to his wet forehead. "There is no choice!" answered the woman, with low, quick emphasis. "Your mind is made up, and we will announce the engagement at once.
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