in the head,
clean-featured, with decisive lips. A very fluent speaker, hoarse in
voice, but cunning in the vibrations he could lend it, he was in action
as light and fierce as a flame; at rest as massive as a block of stone,
impervious to threats or prayers or tears. Women loved him easily, men
followed him blindly, and both for the same reason--that they believed
him ruthless to all but themselves. Ruthless, indeed, he had been, and
was to all and sundry. Molly was the one apparent exception, and in her
eyes he was perfect. For her immediate comfort this may have been true
of him. He was a brave lover.

He taught her to falter endearments in his own tongue: he was _carino,
caro amico, anima mia, sovrano del mio cuor_, and many other things yet
more intimate. In return he gave her a homage which was not without a
certain depth because it was done with foresight. He taught her to be
his slave by professing himself hers, and so touching her generosity as
well as her humility. At all this she was very apt. There was a fund of
deep affection in the girl, the makings of an excellent wife, a devoted
mother--far more stuff than should go to serve as toy for a man's idle
hours. Also she was very demonstrative, by no means averse (quite the
contrary, indeed) to demonstrations on his part. She loved to walk
belted by his arm, loved to put her head on his shoulder, or have her
chin lifted that eyes or lips might be kissed. These favours, which his
nation was accustomed to keep at home, she wore without
self-consciousness abroad. It enchanted Amilcare, not only as a thing
beautiful in itself, but as a clear source of profit in his schemes. He
pictured the havoc she would work in a hall full of the signori--keen
men all--when she sailed through the rooms offering her lips to whoso
would greet them "English fashion." Why, the whole city would be her
slave--eh, and more than the city! Bentivoglio of Bologna, Il Moro of
Milan, Ordelaffi, Manfredi, Farnese, the Borgia, the Gonzaga, D'Este of
Ferrara, Riario, Montefeltro, Orsini--by the Saint of Padua, he would
face them each with his beautiful wife; charm them, turn their heads,
and then--_ping_! Let the neatest wrist win the odd trick. Very pleasant
schemes of witchery and silent murder did he make as the _Santa Fina_
drove him through the dark blue waters on his honeymoon, and at last
brought him up to point out to his adoring instrument a low golden
shore, a darker line of purple s