Then the fat Baron broke into a laugh, that, made his watch-chain dance on his smooth and rotund speckled waistcoat.
"I see! I see!" he tried to say.
The detective understood, and smiled in a subdued way. Malipieri knit his brows angrily, as he felt himself becoming more and more utterly powerless to stave off the frightful catastrophe that threatened Sabina. But the detective was anxious to make matters pleasant by diplomatic means.
"I had not been told that Signor Malipieri was a married man," he said. "Of course, if the Signora Malipieri is not yet visible, I shall be delighted to give her time to dress."
Malipieri bit his lip and made a few steps up and down.
"I did not know that your wife was in Rome," Volterra said, glancing at him, and apparently confirming the detective in his mistake.
"For that matter," said the detective, "I am a married man myself, and if the lady is in bed, she might allow me merely to stand at the door, and glance in."
"I think she is still asleep," Malipieri answered. "I do not like to disturb her, and the room is quite dark."
"My time is at your disposal," said the detective. "Shall we go back and wait in the study? You would perhaps be so kind as to see whether the Signora is awake or not, but I am quite ready to wait till she comes out of her room. I would not put her to any inconvenience for the world, I assure you."
"Really," the Baron said to Malipieri, "I think you might wake her."