took this negotiation with some reluctance, and concluded it, to my
own satisfaction, in the following way. Signora Ricci and her husband
were to receive 850 ducats a year, they engaging to serve the company
five years, under the above-mentioned penalty of 500 ducats if they
cancelled the agreement. The articles were drawn up in writing and
signed by Ricci and her husband. I fancied I had done what was right and
equitable for both parties, and took the articles with some pride to
Sacchi. That brutal old fellow thanked me in the way I shall relate.
Putting his spectacles upon his nose, he began to read the document; and
when I wished to explain it, he burst into a torrent of oaths, banging
the table with his fists as though I had just attempted a surgical
operation upon his tenderest parts. I remarked that, if he did not
approve of the conditions, he might tear the paper up: it was all the
same to me. This line he did not take; but set his signature to the
document, grumbling all the while that neither fines nor penalties would
bind that woman to her word, and that he reckoned upon my influence to
keep her in the straight path. Then I took the contract back to the
Signora, who murmured some words between her teeth about the hard
condition of her five years' service.

The imposthume, which had so long been forming, was bound to come to a
head at last and burst. It is now my business to relate what made the
final rupture between me and Teodora Ricci unavoidable.

The actors left Venice for their summer tour, and many letters passed
between her and me, which showed that she was still aggrieved with
Sacchi, and more than ever puffed up with the flatteries of lovers. I
read and pondered her correspondence, and came to the conclusion that
before a year was out we must cease to be friends.

When she returned in the autumn, on the occasion of my first visit, she
expressed some surprise at the alteration of my manner. It so happened
that at this very moment her servant Pavola handed her a letter which
had just arrived from Turin. She flared up, and flung herself about,
manifesting a strong desire to be able to strike the woman dead for
bringing the letter in my presence. "What has the poor girl done
amiss?" I asked. "Do not wrong me by supposing that I am inquisitive
about your correspondence. If one of the lovers, whom you actresses
always leave behind you, has written you a _billet-doux_, I have no
right to interfere in such