‘So was mine! It is the reason why he left me only just enough to live comfortably, instead of several millions. If I had not been his only child we should have starved!’
‘We were ten, and nine of us are alive.’ Giuliana laughed. ‘When my father and mother were sixty—you know they are just the same age—there were thirty-two at table, between us and our children!’
‘Look at the Saracinesca family,’ said Maria. ‘Old Prince Giovanni was an only son, I believe, and now they are like the sands by the sea! As far as numbers go, there is no fear of the old Roman families dying out!’
‘Your husband was an only son, was he not?’ Giuliana asked.
‘Yes.’
‘And you have only——’ The Marchesa checked herself—‘yes,’ she concluded with that extreme vagueness that comes over us all when we have half said something quite tactless.
But Maria chose to complete the thought.
‘Yes,’ she said quietly, but not at all vaguely. ‘Do you wonder that I am anxious about letting my only child go about on foot when there are strikes?’
‘No, dear, I don’t wonder at all, though I do not think there is any real danger.’