Vittoria asked what it meant.
'Nothing—nothing,' said her friend, and rose, pulling her eagerly toward the lamp.
A small bronze butterfly secured a square piece of paper with clipped corners to her dress. Two words were written on it:—
'SEI SOSPETTA.'
CHAPTER XII
THE BRONZE BUTTERFLY
The two women were facing one another in a painful silence when Carlo Ammiani was announced to them. He entered with a rapid stride, and struck his hands together gladly at sight of Vittoria.
Laura met his salutation by lifting the accusing butterfly attached to Vittoria's dress.
'Yes; I expected it,' he said, breathing quick from recent exertion. 'They are kind—they give her a personal warning. Sometimes the dagger heads the butterfly. I have seen the mark on the Play-bills affixed to the signorina's name.'