“Hm. You Italians haven’t the name of being the best husbands in the world. How long would you be faithful to her?” “I have no intention of ever being anything else.” “That’s what they all say--think, no doubt.” “I shall be.” He spoke with intense conviction. “Well, perhaps--you’ve lived your life. I should think you men would get mighty sick of dancing about and never coming to anchor. But divorce? There’s Mark, you know.” “Her present husband?” “Yes, and a rattling good fellow. He married Ora when she didn’t know which way to turn, and she is really grateful to him, and as fond of him as if he were her own brother. I don’t think she’ll turn him down.” “Women have been known to desert their brothers before this! I mean to make her love me, and if I do--how she could love a man!--I fancy I can persuade her.” “I like Mark and I don’t want to see him thrown down. He’s not what you might call in love with Ora--he got discouraged pretty early in the game. But he’s fond of her and proud of her, and he has ambitions. She could help him a lot.” Valdobia lit another cigarette. “Better have a liaison and get over it. Then he’ll never know, and what men don’t know don’t hurt them.” “I shall do nothing of the sort. I mean to marry her. Will you help me or not?” “Ora’d look fine all right in that old palace of yours. It would suit her a long sight better than Butte, or even Washington--let alone Helena; Mark wouldn’t mind a bit being Governor of Montana. Have you got a castle in the country?” “I have several.” “Fine! I’d visit you every year.” “No one would be half as welcome.” “I’ve been away from America so long and seen so much, and Butte seems so far away, that I’ve kind of lost my bearings. If you’d come over there and lay your siege, I guess I’d fight you to the last ditch.” “Permit me to remind you that we are in Italy, a state several centuries ahead of yours in civilisation, even if we lack your facile divorce laws. I know something of Mr. Blake from Mrs. O’Neil. Can you picture Ora finishing her life with him?” “No, I can’t, and that’s a fact. I wonder there hasn’t been a grand bust-up before this. It will come some day. Why not now?” “Quite so.” “And Mark could get a dozen girls to suit him better, make him nice and comfy. He’ll never get any real companionship out of Ora, fine as she’s always treated him. A man like that needs a running mate.” “I shall waste none of my mental energy in sympathy for Mr. Mark Blake. American husbands, so far as I have been permitted to observe, are accustomed not only to being deserted for months and even years at a time, but to periodical divorce.” “It’s not quite as bad as that, but Mark has the elasticity of an india rubber ball, and that’s a fact.” “Good. Will you help me?”