“How am I to tell them? They are infamous things.”
“Against me?”
“Against us.”
“But speak, at least speak! Do you wish to make me die of anger and impatience?”
“No, Marco. I will tell you all. Come, sit beside me, be tranquil. I don’t like to see you so. You must be calm, my love, so that I may tell you all; you must be sweet and loving, and not so disturbed and wicked.”
“Maria, I am waiting,” he said, almost without listening to her, folding his arms.
“Listen; it is true I ought not to have gone to the meeting with Gianni Provana. I have erred greatly, but a secret terror has been too much for me; I wished to know what he had to tell me. Could it not be perhaps a secret threat for me, for you?”
“I fear nothing, Maria.”
“I, too, nothing; but I went to know. That man is so perverse, and he is always seeing my husband.”
“Then he came for Emilio Guasco?” he exclaimed, rising.