The lady, whom you purposed to make
your wife, is no more."
"No more--how no more?--what--what is it you mean?" said the
Marchese, evidently terribly shocked, as was manifested by the
tremor and shivering which seized him yet more violently than
before; yet still without looking up so as to meet the lawyer's eye.
"She is dead, Signor Marchese," said the lawyer, looking at him
curiously.
"Dead--La Bianca dead! I don't believe it. It is some scheme for
frustrating the purpose you disapproved of--some plan managed
between you and my nephew. You have sent her away, and want to
persuade me that she is dead."
"Your mind is unhinged by the shock of my intelligence, Signor
Marchese--naturally enough--or such an absurd notion would not have
occurred to you. I have seen the dead body of Bianca Lalli. It is
now in the custody of the police," said the lawyer, with slow
gravity.
"The police!" cried the Marchese, shooting a momentary glance up
into the lawyer's face.
"Necessarily so; for, Signor Marchese, the unhappy--the miserable
truth is that a foul murder has been committed. The girl was
murdered in the Pineta this morning."
"Murdered! Gracious heaven! Murdered--but why murdered? Why may she
not have died by a natural death?--that is--I mean--of course I
mean, if there were no evident marks of violence on the body.
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