"I thought you were my friend—a nice one you are indeed! I have nourished a viper in my bosom—I—"
"I am your friend, Egidio, your best friend, if you only knew it, for I am the only one who dares speak the truth to you without fear or favour. But my friendship cannot compel me to deceit to an unworthy end. I shall tell the truth to the world, and you, Egidio, must make that truth such that it may be told without shame to yourself. You must persuade your wife to come back."
"Persuade her, humble myself to her? Never."
But Ferrati had seen the wavering in his eyes,
"Well, then, leave the 'persuasion' to me."
"You can tell her that I am willing to forgive her, if you like, that I am willing to consider that nothing has come between us—See, I am ready to make concessions, to add one more sacrifice—"
The battle was won, or at least as far as Valentini was concerned; the vague stirring of regret for his violence, the fear of his friend's judgment, the thought of his life without the comforts of a well-ordered home—even the thought of losing Ragna herself, although she had come to be but a souffre douleur, had undermined his obstinacy, and the threat of the condemnation of society had been the finishing touch. His declaration of his willingness to "forgive" his wife was, however, all that he could be brought to admit, as Ferrati well knew. It must be taken as the capitulation it signified, and acted upon without further discussion. Remained the problem of Ragna; where was she? Would she return? And, above all, could she be persuaded to resume the burden of Valentini's ill-humour? At least Ferrati intended that she should have the assurance of his friendship and his help in future, for now, after this revealing scene with Valentini he had the weapons for her protection ready to hand.
"Ebbene?" asked Valentini impatiently, anxious to put an end to the interview. "Are you or are you not going to see the children?"
"Of course!" said Ferrati, rising, "poor little things, I had almost forgotten them! But," he added, sharply, turning to the other who was preparing to accompany him, "you must stop here, the sight of you might throw them into convulsions. Wait here, Egidio, and I will come down and report to you when I have seen them."
"Oh, very well," growled Egidio, his mouth twitching with discomfiture, "have it your own way!"