"Oh, Rico, I am the unhappiest man on the earth! My wife, the woman for whom I sacrificed my whole life, has deserted me! The base ingratitude, the heartlessness of it! Think of a woman deserting her husband and children! My head will burst with the strain of it all. Oh, why was I such a fool as to marry? And a woman like that! All my life is sorrow and disappointment and _gratta-capi_." He was thoroughly unstrung. He had never thought that Ragna would take him at his word when he bade her begone, but by now he had thoroughly convinced himself that she was gone, and his little world rocked on its foundations. Most of all, he was sorry for himself, he felt ill-used and sore. Ferrati seated himself, facing Valentini across the table; he spoke, and his voice was incisive and authoritative. "Do you realize what you have done? You have accused your wife of jealousy, but I know, and all Florence knows, Egidio, that she has good reason to be. However, she is patient and bears with it all until you outrage every sense of decency by running after her own maid in her own house--you need not deny it, I have seen the way you look at Carolina. Then because she dares reproach you with your conduct you drive her away, for that is what it amounts to. Do you realize what this means to you? Your wife is loved and respected here, and when the story of her leaving you comes out, as it surely will--what will the world say of you?" He had deliberately touched the chord of Egidio's susceptibility to public opinion, the one to which he responded most readily. "The world knows me, I am not afraid of the world--it is Ragna who will be condemned." "Ah, there you are wrong, the world is not so easily hoodwinked as you choose to think; there are more whispers afloat as to your conduct than you dream of. There are a number of people already, who accept you only on your wife's account, and if that were not enough, _I_ am here," he drew himself up, his stern eyes fixed on Valentini, "if I am questioned, as I am sure to be, I shall answer the truth!" Valentini bounded on his chair. "I thought you were my friend--a nice one you are indeed! I have nourished a viper in my bosom--I--" "I am your friend, Egidio, your best friend, if you only knew it, for I am the only one who dares speak the truth to you without fear or favour. But my friendship cannot compel me to deceit to an unworthy end. I shall tell the truth to the world, and you, Egidio, must make that truth such that it may be told without shame to yourself. You must persuade your wife to come back." "Persuade her, humble myself to her? Never." But Ferrati had seen the wavering in his eyes, "Well, then, leave the 'persuasion' to me." "You can tell her that I am willing to forgive her, if you like, that I am willing to consider that nothing has come between us--See, I am ready to make concessions, to add one more sacrifice--"