The Prince said nothing for a moment; this statement of Madame Grandoni’s seemed to present difficulties. The solution, however, soon suggested itself; it was expressed in the inquiry, “What will you have in a country which has not the true faith?”
“Ah, the true faith is a great thing; but there is suffering even in countries that have it.”
“Evidentemente. But it helps suffering to be borne, and, later, it makes it up; whereas here—!” said the old lady’s visitor, with a melancholy smile. “If I may speak of myself, it is to me, in my circumstances, a support.”
“That is good,” said Madame Grandoni.
He stood before her, resting his eyes for a moment on the floor. “And the famous Cholto—Godfrey Gerald—does he come no more?”
“I haven’t seen him for months, and know nothing about him.”
“He doesn’t like the chemists and the bookbinders, eh?” asked the Prince.
“Ah, it was he who first brought them—to gratify your wife.”
“If they have turned him out, then, that is very well. Now, if only some one could turn them out!”
“Aspetta, aspetta!” said the old woman.