Page:The Princess Casamassima (London and New York, Macmillan & Co., 1886), Volume 3.djvu/141

 'A chemist's assistant? Santo Dio! And the other one, a year ago—more than a year ago—was a bookbinder.'

'Oh, the bookbinder!' murmured Madame Grandoni.

'And does she associate with no people of good? Has she no other society?'

'For me to tell you more, Prince, you must wait till I am free,' said the old lady.

'How do you mean, free?'

'I must choose. I must either go away—and then I can tell you what I have seen—or if I stay here I must hold my tongue.'

'But if you go away you will have seen nothing,' the Prince objected.

'Ah, plenty as it is—more than I ever expected to!'

The Prince clasped his hands together in tremulous suppliance; but at the same time he smiled, as if to conciliate, to corrupt. 'Dearest friend, you torment my curiosity. If you will tell me this, I will never ask you anything more. Where did they go? For the love of God, what is that house?'

'I know nothing of their houses,' she returned, with an impatient shrug.

'Then there are others—there are many?' She made no answer, but sat brooding, with her chin in her protrusive kerchief. Her visitor presently continued, in a soft, earnest tone, with his beautiful Italian distinctness, as if his lips cut and carved the sound, while his fine fingers quivered into quick, emphasising gestures, 'The street is small and black, but it is like all the streets. It has no importance; it is at the end of an endless imbroglio. They drove for twenty minutes; then they stopped their cab and got out.