"Povero diavolo. He has then come again."
"No! but he arrives next week."
"How pleased you are," said Ferrari, mockingly. "Oh, yes, he will be so sweet to behold you."
"That's the very question! I don't want him to see me."
"Then return not to the little daughter."
"I must! I must!" cried Mrs. Belswin in despair. "I can't give up my child after meeting her again. Twenty years, Stephano, and I have not seen her; now I am beside her every day. She loves me--not as her mother, but as her friend. I can't give up all this because my husband is returning."
Signor Ferrari shrugged his shoulders and lighted a cigarette.
"But there is nothing more you can do," he said, spreading out his hands with a dramatic gesture, "eh, carrissima? Think of what is this affair. Il marito has said to you, 'Good-bye.' The little daughter thinks you to be dead. If then you come to reveal yourself, il marito--eh, amica mia! it is a trouble for all."
"What can I do?"
"Nothing! oh no, certainly! You have beheld the little daughter for a time. Now you are to me again. I say, Stella 'dora, with me remain and forget all."