“One or other I will have,” said I, as I knocked at the door of “Mon Repos,” “and both if possible.”
The signorina was looking worried; indeed, I thought she had been crying.
“Did you meet my aunt on your way up?” she asked, the moment I was announced.
“No,” said I. — “I’ve sent her away,” she continued. “All this fuss frightens her, so I got the colonel’s leave (for you know we mustn’t move without permission now liberty has triumphed) for her to seek change of air.”
“Where’s she going to?” I said.
“Home,” said the signorina.
I didn’t know where “home” was, but I never ask what I am not meant to know.
“Are you left alone?”
“Yes. I know it’s not correct. But you see, Jack, I had to choose between care for my money and care for my reputation. The latter is always safe in my own keeping; the former I wasn’t so sure about.”
“Oh, so you’ve given it to Mrs. Carrington?”