“Bah!” Signor Di Bello broke out. “The dog is crazy.”
The priest eyed Juno a moment. “Well, what do you say, signorina?”
“Don’t believe him, padre,” she answered. Then, turning to the banker: “Stupid one, you do not know what you are saying. It is some other woman.”
The banker chuckled grimly and nodded his head in mock concurrence. “Ah, yes; you are right. I do not know you. It was some other woman. Oh that it had been! But alas! it was you—you, the last lady, and I, poor wretch, thought you the First Lady—the Presidentessa!”
“The Presidentessa again?” said the priest, bewildered.
“Yes, padre. So it was she tricked us—me and her husband. Some other woman! Anima mia! Does a man forget the face that has robbed him? In marble I first saw it, and never has it left me, day or night. Ah, the trouble, grand trouble it has brought me! Seven hundred liras! All gone.—But you, Signor Di Bello, are rich. You will pay it back. You will be grateful; for have I not saved you from this woman? She has deceived me, she has deceived her husband; but see, I do not let her deceive you.”
“Go away and mind your own affairs,” said Signor Di Bello, pushing the banker aside. At the same moment the assistants appeared and would have thrown the second intruder into the sacristy with the first, but for the priest. He made a sign for them to desist; then he ordered them to drive back and out of the church the women, girls, and men who were crowding before the altar. When at last the doors were closed and the hubbub without had become a faint murmur, the priest said:
“You must wait for a week, Signor Di Bello. Then, if I find that all is well, you may come back and I will marry you.”
“Bravo!” cried the banker.
“Silence! Come to me Tuesday with the man you say is this woman’s husband.”