His madness subsided by slow degrees, and then changed all at once, and he was again in the mood she remembered so well. He came and stood still two paces from her, his eyes all bloodshot but his face white.
‘How dare you say you are innocent?’ he asked.
She held out the envelope in which Castiglione’s writing had come to her.
‘It is addressed to my confessor, who gave it to me,’ she said.
He came nearer and steadied his eyes to read the name, for his sight was not very good.
‘Do you think such a trick as that can deceive me?’ he asked with cold scorn.
‘Send for him,’ said Maria. ‘Your carriage is at the door, for you were going out. Go and bring him here, for he will come.’
Montalto looked at her with a strange expression.
‘Go to the Capuchins,’ she said calmly. ‘Ask for Padre Bonaventura, and bring him back in the carriage. He will not refuse you.’