"Yes, with coin stolen from the Treasury by your rogues and swindlers who pose before Italy as patriots and politicians." "It matters not to such a woman as you whence comes the money you require to keep up your fine appearance," he said angrily, for this reference to his political party had raised his blood to fever-heat. "Even though I have this unenviable reputation which you have been pleased to give me throughout Italy, I am at least honest," she cried. "Towards your lovers--eh?" Standing before him, in a violent outburst of anger, she shook both her gloved hands in his face, saying-- "Enough--enough of your insults! For the sake of the land I love, for the sake of Italy's power and prestige, and for your reputation I have suffered. But remember that the bond which fetters me to you will snap if stretched too far; that instead of assisting you, I can ruin you." "You speak plainly certainly," he said, after a moment's hesitation. "I do. Through your evil machinations I have no reputation to lose. With artful ingenuity you compromised me, you spread scandals about me in Florence, in Venice, in Rome, scandals that were the vilest libels man ever uttered. In your club you told men that there was something more between us than mere friendship, that I was extravagant, and that I cost you as much in diamonds at Fasoli's in the Corso, on a single afternoon, as the Government paid you in a whole year. Such were the lies you spread in order to ruin me," she cried bitterly. "Never have I had a soldo from your private purse, never a single ornament, and never have your foul lips touched mine. You, who boldly announced yourself my lover, I have ever held in scorn and hatred as I do now. The money I received was from the Treasury--part of that sum yearly filched from the Government funds to keep up your rickety old castle outside Empoli; but bound as I was by my oath of secrecy I could utter no word in self-defence, nor prosecute the journals which spread their highly-spiced libels. You held me beneath your thrall, and I, although an honest woman, have remained crushed and powerless." Then she paused. "Proceed," he observed with sarcasm. "I am all attention." "No more need be said," she answered. "I will now leave you, and wish you a pleasant journey back to Rome," and she bowed and turned away. "Come," he cried, dragging her by force back to the seat. "Don't be an idiot, Gemma, but listen. I brought you here," he commenced, "not to fence with you, as we have been doing, but to make a proposal; one that I think you will seriously consider." "Some further shady trick, I suppose. Well, explain your latest scheme. It is sure to be interesting!"