Signor Pietro Logarini, the head of the police, was an old
acquaintance of Signor Fortini,--as, indeed was pretty well
everybody in any sort of position of authority in the city.
"A bad business this, Signor Pietro," said Fortini, shaking his
head.
"The worst business, Signor Giovacchino, that has happened in
Ravenna as long as I can remember. It is very terrible."
"Is the poor young fellow--?" Signor Fortini completed his question
by a movement of his eyes, of one shoulder, and one thumb, quite as
intelligible to the person he addressed as any words would have
been.
"Yes, of course. There was no help for it, you know."
"Of course not. I suppose he came here as soon as he parted from me.
It so happened that we were together at the gate when the body was
brought there," said Signor Fortini.
"So I understand. You will be called on for your evidence as to his
manner on being confronted with it."
"Of course; fortunately I have nothing to say on that point that can
do any damage. He was much moved, naturally; we both were; but
nothing more than any man in his place would have been."
"But the worst, the only fatal point in that confession of his, is
that the girl told him of the Marchese Lamberto's intention of
marrying her. Why in heaven's name did he let that slip out?"
"My notion is that it just did slip out, as you say.
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