"Certainly," he cried. "I have been your dupe. You led me to believe in your innocence, while all the time the papers are commenting upon your adventures, and printing scandals anent your past. Because I did not know your language well, and because I seldom read an Italian newspaper, you were bold enough to believe that I should remain in utter ignorance. But I have discovered the extent of your perfidy. I know now, that in dealing with you, I'm dealing with one whose shrewdness and cunning are notorious throughout the whole of Italy." "Then you have no further love for me, Nino?" she asked blankly, after a brief space. "Love! No, I hate you!" he cried. "You led me to believe in your uprightness and honesty, yet I find that you, of all women in Italy, are the least desirable, as an acquaintance--the least possible as a wife!" "You hate me?" she gasped hoarsely. "You--Nino!--hate me?" "Yes," he cried, his hands clenched in excitement, "I hate you!" "Then why have you come here?" she asked. "Even if you had heard my voice, you need not have entered this room to taunt me." "I have come to call upon the Doctor," he answered. "Eleven o'clock at night is a curious hour at which to call upon a friend," she observed. "Your business with him must be very pressing." "It is--it is," he answered quickly, striding to and fro. "I must see him to-night." "Why?" "Because I leave England to-morrow." "You leave England?" she said hoarsely. "You intend to leave me here?" "Surely you are comfortable enough? Malvano is Italian, and, although I was not aware that you were acquainted with him, he is nevertheless a very good fellow, and no doubt you are happy." "Happy!" she cried. "Happy without you, Nino! Ah! you are too cruel! If you could but know the truth; if you could but know what I have suffered, what I am at this moment suffering for your sake, you would never treat me thus--never." "Ah! your story is always the same--always," he laughed superciliously. "I know now why you would never invite me to your house in Florence. You could not well take me to your great palazzo without me knowing its name. Again, you lived in that small flat in the Viale at Livorno instead of at your villa at Ardenza, that beautiful house overlooking the sea, coveted by all the Livornesi." "I have a reason for not living there," she exclaimed quickly. "I have not entered it now for two years. Perhaps I shall never again cross its threshold." "And it is untenanted?" "Certainly. I do not wish to let it." "Why?" "It is a caprice of mine," she answered. "To a woman of my character caprices are allowed, I suppose?" Then, after a slight hesitation, she raised her fine eyes to his, saying, "Now tell me candidly, Nino, why have you come here to-night?" "To see the Doctor. I want to consult him." "Are you ill?" she asked with some alarm, noticing that he was unusually pale.