"Tiens!" she exclaimed, "it is rather becoming—what small ankles you have, Gouache!"
Anastase laughed. It was impossible to be grave in the face of such utterly frivolous inconsistency.
"You will allow your expression to change so often, Donna Tullia! It is impossible to catch it."
"Like your convictions," murmured Del Ferice from his corner. Indeed Ugo did not know what to make of the scene. He had miscalculated the strength of Donna Tullia's fears as compared with her longing to possess a flattering portrait of herself. Rather than leave the picture unfinished, she exhibited a cynical indifference to danger which would have done honour to a better man than Del Ferice. Perhaps, too, she understood Gouache well enough to know that he might be trusted. Indeed any one would have trusted Gouache. Even Del Ferice was less disturbed at the possibility of the artist's repeating any of the trivial liberal talk which he had listened to, than at the indifference to discovery shown by Donna Tullia. To Del Ferice, the whole thing had been but a harmless play; but he wanted Madame Mayer to believe that it had all been in solemn earnest, and that she was really implicated in a dangerous plot; for it gave him a stronger hold upon her for his own ends.
"So you are going to fight for Pio Nono," remarked Ugo, scornfully, after another pause.
"I am," replied Gouache. "And, no offence to you, my friend, if I meet you in a red shirt among the Garibaldini, I will kill you. It would be very unpleasant, so I hope that you will not join them."
"Take care, Del Ferice," laughed Donna Tullia; "your life is in danger!
You had better join the Zouaves instead."
"I cannot paint his Eminence's portrait," returned Ugo, with a sneer, "so there is no chance of that."
"You might assist him with wholesome advice, I should think," answered Gouache. "I have no doubt you could tell him much that would be very useful."
"And turn traitor to—"