"Apparently."
"If they had taken Flavia it would have been more natural. She would have inaugurated her reign as Princess Saracinesca by a night in the Termini. Delightful contrast! I suppose you know who did it?"
"No. Probably a servant, though they say that nothing was stolen."
"San Giacinto did it. I have thought the whole matter out, and I am convinced of it. Look at his hands. He could strangle an elephant. Not that he could have had any particular reason for liquidating his father-in-law. He is rich enough without Flavia's share, but I always thought he would kill somebody one of these days, ever since I met him at Aquila."
"Without any reason, why should he have done it?"
"My dear child, when one has no reason to give, it is very hard to say why a thing occurs. He looks like the man."
"Is it conceivable that after getting all he could desire he should endanger his happiness in such a way?"
"Perhaps not. I believe he did it. What an abominable omelet—a glass of water, Pasquale. Abominable, is it not, Corona? Perfectly uneatable. I suppose the cook has heard of our misfortunes and wants to leave."
"I fancy we are not very hungry," remarked Corona, in order to say something.
"I would like to know whether the murderer is eating his breakfast at this moment, and whether he has any appetite. It would be interesting from a psychological point of view. By the bye, all this is very like a jettatura."