"Perhaps," suggested his wife, "it is the Prince who is ill, and Signor
Sassi has taken Sabina to the country to see her brother."
"No," answered the Baron after a moment's thought. "That family is eccentric, but the girl would not have gone to the country without a bag."
"There is something in that," answered the Baroness, and they relapsed into silence.
Yet she was not satisfied, for, as her husband said, the Conti were all eccentric. Nevertheless, Sabina would at least have telegraphed, or sent a line from the station, or Sassi would have done it for her, for he was a man of business.
After a long time, the Baroness suggested that if her husband knew Sassi's address, some one should be sent to his house to find out if he had gone out of town.
"I have not the least idea where he lives," the Baron said. "As long as
I had any business with him, I addressed him at the palace."
"The porter may know," observed the Baroness.
"The porter is an idiot," retorted the Baron, puffing at his cigar.
His wife knew what that meant, and did not enquire why an idiot was left in charge of the palace. Volterra did not intend to take that way of making enquiries about Sabina, if he made any at all, and the Baroness knew that when he did not mean to do a thing, the obstinacy of a Calabrian mule was docility compared with his dogged opposition. Moreover, she would not have dared to do it unknown to him. There was some good reason why he did not intend to look for Sassi.
"Besides," he condescended to say after a long time, "she is quite safe with that old man, wherever they are."