e theater. The days would not be so
monotonous. She wondered why she was still unable to shake off the
feeling of anxiety and apprehension which had haunted her ever since he
went away. With a devoted husband safe at her side, what reason had
she for feeling depressed? Yet, for some reason she was unable to
explain, she was not able even now to throw off her melancholy and
presentiment of danger.

There recurred to her mind what Signor Keralio had said, his veiled,
ambiguous words of warning. Could it be true, was it possible that her
husband had deceived her all these years and unsuspected by her, had
led a double life of deceit and disloyalty? Certainly there was much
that needed explanation. The loss of the diamonds did not directly
concern her, although she felt that, too, was part of the mystery. But
his strange aloofness of manner, his inexplicable loss of memory and
nervousness, the frenzied outburst when she had mentioned Keralio's
name that afternoon, the sudden craving for drink--was not all this to
some extent, corroboration of what the fencing master has told her?
She thought she would question him, speak to him openly, frankly, as a
loyal wife should the man she loves, and give him an opportunity to
explain. Now was as good a time as ever. Looking up she said abruptly:

"Signor Keralio was here while you were away. I started telling you
this afternoon, but you got so excited----"

Making a deprecatory gesture with his hand he said indifferently:

"That's all right. I was tired and nervous. I'm quieter now. What
did Keralio have to say?"

"Nothing worth listening to. He never says anything but impertinences."

He shrugged his shoulders.

"You mustn't take him too seriously."

Hotly she retorted:

"He takes himself too seriously. If he only knew how repellent he is
to a decent woman he would cease to annoy me."

He laughed.

"Oh, Keralio's not a bad sort--when you get to know him. Those
foreigners think nothing of making love to a woman----"

"I don't want to know him," she retorted with spirit, "and what's more,
I don't want him coming here. One evening he was so insulting that I
had to show him the door. He had the impudence to come again. So I
had my servant put him out. You won't invite him here again, will you?"

He was silent, while she sat watching him, amazed that he did not at
once fiercely resent the insult done her in his absence. After a
pause, he said awkward