Ludovico's assertions to that effect were of
course unworthy of the slightest attention; the mere ravings of a
man in love. Of course, also, the menace he held out, that if any
attempt were made to throw the onus of the crime on Paolina, he
would meet it by avowing himself guilty, was as entirely to be
disregarded. The paramount business in hand was to clear his friend
of this untoward complication in the matter of the crime which had
so mysteriously been committed. The next consideration was to set
him equally free from his entanglement with Paolina. And with these
thoughts in his mind, the Baron decided that, upon the whole, it
would be better that he should have an interview with lawyer
Fortini, before making his visit to the lady.
He knew that it was too late to look for the lawyer at his "studio;"
and therefore went directly to his residence, where he found the old
gentleman just concluding his solitary supper. Being the evening of
Ash Wednesday, the meal had consisted of a couple of eggs, and a
morsel of tunny fish preserved in oil, very far from a bad relish
for a flask of good wine. And the lawyer was, when Manutoli came in,
aiding his meditations by discussing the remaining half of a small
cobwebbed bottle of the very choicest growth of the Piedmontese
hills.
"I owe you a thousand apologies, Signor Fortini, for coming to
trouble you with business, and very disagreeable business too, here
and at such an hour," began the Baron; "but the interest we all
feel--"
"Not a word of apology is needed, Signor Barone.
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