'Find him—yes.'
'No more?' he demanded grimly.
'I thought you loved him?' she gulped.
'Too well,' he answered, 'to be your go-between.'
She uttered a fierce exclamation, and clenched her hands.
'Go, sir!' she said.
He turned at once. She came after him, fawning.
'Good Messer Carlo, dear lord,' she breathed weepingly; 'nay, thou art a loyal and honest friend. Forgive me. We are all in need of forgiveness.'
He faced about again.
'Penitence is blasphemy without reform,' he said.