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Updated: May 28, 2025
I believe I have finished that flask. Let us take our coffee. We can define that beforehand, for we know by daily experience how diabolically bad it is." Orsino saw that Spicca meant to lead the conversation away in another direction. "May I ask you one serious question?" he inquired, leaning forward. "With a little ingenuity you may even ask me a dozen, all equally serious, my dear Orsino.
"Why him?" inquired Maria Consuelo with some curiosity. "Because I fancied he might know," answered Orsino passing lightly over the question. He did not wish even Maria Consuelo to guess that Spicca had spoken of her to him. "The reason why I was anxious about you was that I had written you a letter. I wrote some weeks ago to your address in Paris and got no answer." "You wrote?"
Without hesitation Spicca took a pocket-knife and began to cut the head out, with that extraordinary neatness and precision which characterised him when he used any sharp instrument. The head just fitted the frame. He fastened it in with drops of sealing-wax and carefully burned the rest of the picture in the embers.
She has also written to me, informing me that I am Satan. There is a directness in the statement and a general disregard of probability which is not without charm. Nevertheless, I am Spicca, and not Beelzebub, her assurances to the contrary notwithstanding. You see how views may differ.
Del Ferice spoke thoughtfully and slowly, as though wishing that some one would interrupt him or take up the subject, for he felt that his wife's long story about Spicca and the antiquary had not been a success, and his instinct told him that Spicca had better not be mentioned again, since he was a friend of Orsino's and since his name seemed to exert a depressing influence on Maria Consuelo.
She could not reasonably be supposed to have a guardian in every city of Europe. The more he thought of this improbability the less he understood the truth. "I suppose I cannot hope that you will tell me more," he said. "I do not see why I should," answered Spicca, drinking again. "I asked you an indiscreet question and I have given you an explanation which you are kind enough to accept.
Orsino wondered what part he was expected to play in the trio, and wished himself away in spite of the interest he felt in the situation. Maria Consuelo began to talk in a careless tone which reminded him of his first meeting with her in Gouache's studio. She told Spicca that Orsino had promised her his architect as a guide in her search for a lodging.
"He himself is the best judge of that." Spicca raised his weary eyes to hers and looked at her for a moment, before he answered. "Yes," he said. "I think I am the best judge. But I am not accustomed to being defended, least of all against you, Madame. The sensation is a new one." Orsino felt himself out of place.
"A lady's invitation to leave her house, Madame, is the only one which a man cannot refuse," said Spicca gravely. He bowed and followed Orsino out of the room, closing the door behind him. The scene had produced a very disagreeable impression upon Orsino.
As Orsino had no reason whatever for avoiding Spicca he naturally waited a moment instead of leaving the room immediately. He looked at the old man with a new interest as the latter came forward. He had never seen and probably would never see again a man taking the hand of a woman whose husband he had destroyed. He stood a little back and Spicca passed him as he met Maria Consuelo.
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