"And I," announced Caldini.
Mary Gowd turned swiftly to look at him.
"You!" said Tweetie Gregg.
"I trust that I may have the very great happiness to see you in the morning," went on Caldini in his careful English. "I cannot permit Signora Gowd to return home alone through the streets of Rome." He bowed low and elaborately over the hands of the two women.
"Oh, well; for that matter—" began Henry Gregg gallantly.
Caldini raised a protesting, white-gloved hand.
"I cannot permit it."
He bowed again and looked hard at Mary Gowd. Mary Gowd returned the look. The brick-red had quite faded from her cheeks. Then, with a nod, she turned and walked toward the door. Blue Cape, sword clanking, followed her.
In silence he handed her into the fiacre. In silence he seated himself beside her. Then he leaned very close.
"I will talk in this damned English," he began, "that the pig of a fiaccheraio may not understand. This—this Gregg, he is very rich, like all Americans. And the little Eleanora! Bellissima! You must not stand in my way. It is not good." Mary Dowd sat silent. "You will help me. To-day you were not kind. There will be much money—money for me; also for you."