"It seems to me," he said, turning suddenly on Alfieri, after gazing
out across the harbor and watching the twinkling lights on the
_Aphrodite_, "it seems to me that the best thing we can do now is to
arrange a compromise. It is not too late. We must board the
Englishman's yacht early in the morning--"
He was interrupted by a knock at the door. A servant entered. There was
a lady to see his Excellency. By Bacchus, a lady, at that hour, nearly
ten o'clock! Who was she, and what did she want? He could not be
bothered--
Then he read the name on the card brought by the man, and whistled
softly, lest perchance this latest phase of an electrical situation
should demand words not in the repertory of excellencies.
"Wait outside for one moment," he said. Alfieri, alive to Signor
Marchetti's suppressed excitement, wondered who the visitor could be.
The governor examined the card again. He gave his companion a rather
dreary smile.
"You are but a tinfoil conspirator, after all, my friend," said he.
"Here is a woman who despises you.
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