“Yes,” she answered, seizing her chance. “If you were a man you would make him leave me alone. I do not want him.” “I will kill the dog!” said Bertino, letting go of her arm. A moment he regarded her with the old tenderness, but a black look settled again on his face, and he asked slowly, “Why did you not let me know you were back?” “I have not been in the city an hour. The shop was closed. Luigia the Garlic Woman will tell you that I asked her if she knew where you had gone. I was going to send a note to Casa Di Bello. We met in the street and--he annoyed me.” She thought now only of saving herself. “By the heart of Mary!” he said, “this shall stop. I will go to him and tell him you are my wife.” “No, no! Don’t do that. Wait--wait until you are rid of him--until you are your own _padrone_--until the bust is here and you have sold it and are a free man.” “The bust?” he said hopelessly. “It is here, but as well might it have remained in Armando’s studio.” “What?” she said. “It is here? Where? Let me see it.” “No; I can not. The Government has it, and will keep it until I pay one hundred and forty dollars. Seven hundred _lire_! _Gesù Bambino!_ Where shall I get them?” As they walked on he recounted the distress that had overtaken the supposed First Lady of the Land; her captivity in the hands of revenue officials, and his inability to pay the kingly ransom demanded. This news was a cut and thrust at the hope whereon Juno’s crude self-love had fed for many a month, and it killed the solitary motive that made her hold to Bertino. By neither word nor sign, however, did she betray her disgust and anger; she even feigned sympathy, and bade him be of good cheer, saying tenderly that ill fortune would not dog them forever; that by luck or pluck they should get possession of the bust, and carry out his plan for money-making. These were the first heartening words she had ever spoken to him--the first kindness he could recall as coming from her lips. Despite the black cloud that had risen so suddenly from behind the customhouse, a sweet rapture filled his soul. What mattered it all?--his wife loved him. Their joys and griefs were one. The loneliness that had burdened his spirit since the day of his marriage departed, and his heart lost its bitterness. “True, my precious,” he said, pressing her hand, “we love each other, and shall know how to manage in spite of the Government.” At the same time Juno said to herself, “How can I get rid of the fool and marry his uncle?”