He was evidently not at all offended, and I felt puzzled by his manner. It was true he had candidly acknowledged that he was making this marriage for money, but surely he must also love this woman, whose ripe beauty was so attractive to the passionate nature of the Italians. Yet, judging from his mode of speech, he evidently had some mistrust--a mistrust for which I could not account. He could know nothing of the affair at the Palazzo Morone, so there certainly could be no reason for suspicion on his part. She was a beautiful woman, a rich woman, an attractive woman, so with this trinity of perfections she decidedly merited a warmer love than Beltrami appeared inclined to give her. Could it be that her evil beauty repelled him, as it did me? No! that was impossible, seeing that, according to my idea, their natures were wonderfully alike. Altogether the whole demeanour of the Marchesa perplexed me by its strangeness, and I watched him narrowly as he approached the Contessa, to see if she perceived the lack of warmth on the part of her lover. To my surprise, as he bent over her chair to speak, she shrank away with a gesture of disdain, and the rubies shot forth a red flame, as if to warn the lover that there was danger in pressing upon this woman his unwelcome attentions. Unwelcome, I am sure they were, for as he adjusted her cloak and aided her to rise, in order to return to the box, I saw that she accepted all his politeness with forced civility and cold smiles. So then she did not love him--he had almost openly acknowledged to me that he did not love her, and yet these two people, who had no feeling of love in their hearts, were about to marry. It was most extraordinary, and I marvelled greatly at the juxtaposition of these two human beings, who evidently hated one another heartily. At this moment the Contessa spoke of the man she had murdered, and I was horrified in the cold, callous tones in which she veiled her iniquity. "Do you know, gentlemen, if anything has been heard of this lost tenor?" Beltrami shot a keen glance at her, then a second at me, and I felt more bewildered than ever by this strange action. "Nothing has been heard of him, Contessa," he said quickly, before the others could speak; "he has vanished altogether, but no doubt he will appear again." "Ah, you think so?" observed the Contessa, with a cruel smile. "I am sure of it!" She winced, and looked at him in a startled manner, upon which, impelled by some mysterious impulse, I know not what, I joined in the conversation,-- "On the contrary, madame, I do not think Signor Pallanza will ever be seen again." All present turned round in surprise, and the Contessa darted a look at me which seemed to pierce my soul. Only Beltrami was unmoved, and he, with a smile on his face, laid his hand upon my shoulder. "Eh, Signor Hugo, and why do you think so?" "A mere fancy, Marchese, nothing more." "Ma foi! and a fancy that may turn out true!"