ster to various
aristocratic houses, and at every one he heard the same conversation,
about the King, the Pope, the Cardinals, and how few or how many
people there were in the hotels. These topics, together with slanders,
constituted the favourite motive for conversation in the great world.

Caesar conversed with the somewhat flaccid old ladies ("castanae
molles," as Preciozi called them) with perfect hypocrisy; he regarded
the classic decorations of the salons, and while he listened to rather
strange French and to most elegant and pure Italian, he wondered if
there might be somebody among all this Papal society whom he could use
to forward his ambitions.

Sometimes among the guests he would meet a young "monsignor," discreetly
smiling, whose emerald ring it was necessary to kiss. Caesar would kiss
it and say to himself: "Let us practise tolerance with our lips."

In many of these salons the mania for the English game called "bridge"
had caught with great violence.

Caesar hated card-games. For a man who made a study of the
stock-exchange, the mechanism of a card-game was too stupid to arouse
any interest. But he had no objection to playing and losing.

The Countesses Brenda and San Martino had "bridge-mania" very hard, and
they used to go to Brenda's room in the evening to play.

After playing bridge a week, Caesar found that his money was insensibly
melting away.

"Look here," he said to Laura.

"What is it?"

"You have got to teach me bridge."

"I don't know how to play, because I have no head for such things and I
forget what cards have been played; but they gave me a little book on
the game. I will lend it to you, if you like."

"Yes, give me it."

Caesar read the book, learned the intricacies of the game, and the next
few evenings he acquitted himself so well that the Countess of San
Martino marched off to her room with burning cheeks and almost in tears.

"What a cad you are!" Laura said to him at lunch some days later,
laughing. "You are fleecing those women."

"It's their own fault. Why did they take advantage of my innocence?"

"They have decided to go and play in Carminatti's room without telling
you."

"I'm glad of it."

"Do you know, _bambino_, I have to go away for a few days."

"Where?"

"To Naples. Come with me."

"No; I have things to do here. I will take you to the station."

"Ah, you rascal! You are a Don Juan."

"No, dear sister. I am a financier."

"I can see your vict