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272 The two sisters dined alone that night at the chalet, as usual. Edith had gone back to bed. "I've had a talk with her," sighed Nina. "I've been trying to persuade her that she ought to go to her relatives in England, but she seems to think that would be giving up any hope of Egisto—and the children. She has two, you know, two little girls, and Egisto has declared she shall never see them again. She's been crying—bawling rather—for an hour. She swears that she's quite innocent this time, and that Egisto's morbid jealousy has trumped up a case against her. And then she maundered on about this man, whoever he is, some Italian, and their beautiful friendship, which people would misunderstand, and so on. Of course, if she tells the truth, it is pretty hard on her. But then she's been such an idiot—worse than that, criminal—and even if she's innocent in this case, she deserves it all, I really do think. I was wrong, I believe, to meddle with her affairs at all, or try to help her—and yet I don't know—what can you do when a person comes and goes on their knees to you"

"And what does she want now?" asked Teresa absently.

"Why, she wants to get back what she's forfeited—her children, her position in society. She doesn't care anything about her husband, but of course she can't very well get on without him.