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Updated: June 14, 2025
But the fat Baron knew what he was about, and as he came forward with his wife he suddenly thrust out his hand at Malipieri's head, and the latter saw down the barrel of Volterra's revolver. "You must let my wife pass," cried Volterra coolly, "or I will shoot you." Malipieri was as active as a sailor.
The porter's wife might have been of some use, if she could have been trusted with what must for ever remain a dead secret, namely, that Sabina had spent the night in Malipieri's rooms; for that would be the plain fact to-morrow morning.
He did not in the least believe that the porter washed it every morning, of course, but he appreciated the fact that the man evidently wished him to think so, and was afraid of him. "You say that you rang several times at Signor Malipieri's door," he said. "Has he not told you that he is going to live somewhere else?" "No, sir." "Does he never leave his key with you when he goes out?" "No, sir."
No doubt, in time, the police could find the cab they had taken, and the cabman would remember that they had paid him at the Palazzo Conti. But all that would take a long time. The porter knew nothing of their coming, and being used to Malipieri's ways would not think of ringing at his door.
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