"Don't you understand that I am no longer your wife? I didn't ask you to come here on this January night merely to tell you that that account between us is closed for ever. Once again, don't let's waste time. Here are some telegrams from Trieste. They confirm information we have received during the last few days. You are aware of the political situation. You know that the Italians have been disappointed in their demand for an indemnity against us. To-day they are having their revenge. It is just like them. They are going to put an embargo on all Greek property in Italy. We shall be compelled to sell San Lucido just at the moment when it is doing well. After all, that is what the Italian Government cannot forgive us. We bought the mine at a period when Italy was half Communist, the victim of a depreciated currency. To-day we are facing a Nationalist Italy, foreigner-hating, intoxicated with her 'Rights.' The _Credito Milanese_ with whom we are in close touch, and of whose Fascist leanings you know, has been making proposals in which their threats are ill-concealed, to buy us out." "Cannot you arrange a fictitious transfer of stock and administration by a third party until the crisis has passed?" asked Lewis. "No, what they want is that the undertaking should no longer be in Greek hands. It is a policy which they are extending to the whole of the Eastern Mediterranean. We have no choice. Read the telegrams; we must sell immediately at the best price we can." "What conditions does the _Credito Milanese_ offer you?" "They are not too good. But at any rate they are the best we can get. But, you understand, we will never sell to Italians. To come to the point. What I propose is this: are you disposed to take it over again?" "What a shifting venture ..." thought Lewis. This San Lucido enterprise had come and gone in his life during the past year like an absurd romantic refrain. He saw again the glittering sea and a young woman sounding with brown arms. He saw again the pure profile of the Sicilian hills and the shimmering blue sky. A cry burst from him, the first in his life: "Irene! don't leave me!" "Come. You heard what I said. Think it over. Let your words be measured by the thought that this is our last conversation. Make your calculations. That is what you are here for. It was much more difficult for me to ask you to come ..." "You needn't go on. I have already had proof of your pride." Irene in her turn felt herself weakening under the bitterness of their words. But she controlled herself. "Let us try to keep the balance between insolence and affliction, if you don't mind?" Softer thoughts passed between them after this. "Here we are," she went on, "back in life as single combatants. Let us play our parts. Let us fight a good battle." "Irene, I lo ..."