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Updated: May 28, 2025
If anything could have increased the suffering which this intuitive knowledge caused him, it was the fact that he possessed no proof of her right to rank with the best, except his own implicit faith in her, and the few words Spicca had chosen to let fall.
Giovanni followed and laid a hand upon his arm. "You will not do me this service?" he asked earnestly. Again Spicca stopped and looked at him. "You and I are very old friends, Giovanni," he said slowly. "I am older than you, but we have stood by each other very often in places more slippery than these marble steps. Do not let us quarrel now, old friend.
"We are only logic's pawns," continued Spicca without heeding the remark. "Or, if you like it better, we are the Devil's chess pieces in his match against God. We are made to move each in our own way.
She had admitted that her deceased husband had spoken of being connected with the Saracinesca, but he could not discover where the relationship lay. Spicca's very odd remark, too, seemed to point to her, in some way which Orsino could not understand, and he remembered her having said that she had heard of Spicca.
It was the photograph in the little chiselled frame the same frame which had once excited Donna Tullia's scorn. Orsino brought it quickly from its place over the chimney-piece, and held it before his friend's eyes. Spicca gazed at it a long time in silence. "Take it away," he said, at last. "It is not like her." Orsino put it aside and sat down again.
Orsino stopped in his walk, after the manner of Italians, and he looked at Spicca. He was hot tempered when provoked, and he might have resented the speech if it had come from any other man. But he spoke quietly. "Why do you wish to see us together?" he asked. "Because I am foolish enough to think sometimes that you suit one another, and might love one another."
She knew that the mere mention of so mature an age would be flattering to such a boy. "The objections are insurmountable," replied Orsino. "What objections? Remember that I do not know Rome, nor the Romans." "We are petrified in traditions. Spicca said the other day that there was but one hope for us. The Americans may yet discover Italy, as we once discovered America." Madame d'Aragona smiled.
"Whom?" asked Spicca, mournfully. "Oh! it is Del Ferice," answered Giovanni, who had forgotten that he had not mentioned the name of his probable antagonist. The Prince laughed. "Del Ferice! Who would have thought it? He is a dead man. What was it all about?" "That is unnecessary to say here," said Giovanni, quietly. "He insulted me grossly. I half-strangled him, and told him he was a dog.
"Tell me more about it." "Well, when it was over, old Saracinesca was for killing Casalverde himself." "The old fire-eater! He ought to be ashamed of himself." "However, Spicca was before him, and challenged Casalverde then and there. As both the principals in the first duel were so badly wounded, it had to be put off until this morning." "They went out, and piff, paff!
I have unfortunately no means of preventing you from writing to me, but you may be sure that your letters will never be read, so that you will do as well to spare yourself the trouble of composing them. Spicca received this letter early in the morning, and at mid-day he still sat in his chair, holding it in his hand.
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