d! How
sorry I am! You have my sympathy, my dear! But didn't I tell you the man
was a public nuisance, and ought to be put down by the police?"

"Shameful, isn't it?" said Don Camillo. "Calumny is a little wind, but
it raises such a terrible tempest."

"Nobody likes to be talked about," said the Princess, "especially in
Rome, where it is the end of everything."

"But what matter? Perhaps the young man has learned freedom of speech in
a free country!" said Don Camillo.

"And then he is so interesting and so handsome," said the Princess.

Roma made no answer. There was a slight drooping of the lovely eyes and
a trembling of the lips and nostrils. For a moment she stood absolutely
impassive, and then with a flash of disdain she flung round into the
inner room.

VIII

Roma had taken refuge in the council-room. There had been much business
that morning, and a copy of the constitutional statute lay open on a
large table, which had a plate-glass top with photographs under the
surface.

In this passionless atmosphere, so little accustomed to such scenes,
Roma sat in her wounded pride and humiliation, with her head down, and
her beautiful white hands over her face.

She heard measured footsteps approaching, and then a hand touched her on
the shoulder. She looked up and drew back as if the touch stung her. Her
lips closed sternly, and she got up and began to walk about the room,
and then she burst into a torrent of anger.

"Did you hear them? The cats! How they loved to claw me, and still purr
and purr! Before the sun is set the story will be all over Rome! It has
run off already on the hoofs of that woman's English horses. To-morrow
morning it will be in every newspaper in the kingdom. Olga and Lena and
every woman of them all who lives in a glass house will throw stones.
'The new Pompadour! Who is she?' Oh, I could die of vexation and shame!"

The Baron leaned against the table and listened, twisting the ends of
his moustache.

"The Court will turn its back on me now. They only wanted a good excuse
to put their humiliations upon me. It's horrible! I can't bear it. I
won't. I tell you, I won't!"

But the lips, compressed with scorn, began to quiver visibly, and she
threw herself into a chair, took out her handkerchief, and hid her face
on the table.

At that moment Felice came into the room to say that the Commendatore
Angelelli had returned and wished to speak with his Excelle