"I do not know," she said, with a light laugh. "How do you mean?"
"If I could do you some great service—if I could by any means satisfy what is now your chief desire in life—would not that help to cement our friendship, as I said?"
"Perhaps," she answered, thoughtfully. "But then you do not know—you cannot guess even—what I most wish at this moment."
"I think I could," said Del Ferice, fixing his eyes upon her. "I am sure
I could, but I will not. I should risk offending you."
"No; I will not be angry. You may guess if you please." Donna Tullia in her turn looked, fixedly at her companion. They seemed trying to read each other's thoughts.
"Very well," said Ugo at last, "I will tell you. You would like to see the Astrardente dead and Giovanni Saracinesca profoundly humiliated."
Donna Tullia started. But indeed there was nothing strange in her companion's knowledge of her feelings. Many people, being asked what she felt, would very likely have said the same, for the world had seen her discomfiture and had laughed at it.
"You are a very singular man," she said, uneasily.
"In other words," replied Del Ferice, calmly, "I am perfectly right in my surmises. I see it in your face. Of course," he added, with a laugh, "it is mere jest. But the thing is quite possible. If I fulfilled your desire of just and poetic vengeance, what would you give me?"
Donna Tullia laughed in her turn, to conceal the extreme interest she felt in what he said.