"Three weeks ago, dear."
"Then you have been elsewhere?" he continued, controlling his agitation with an effort.
"Yes, elsewhere," she rejoined with a smile, but without further explanation.
"But why didn't you warn me, dear? Why make me pass terrible days here alone in Rome, not knowing how to vent my anger and sorrow? Ah, what days!"
"I left unexpectedly, Vittorio."
"Unexpectedly?"
"I decided to come to Rome in search of you on the spur of the moment. Mammy is on the other side, only Broughton accompanied me. I am incognito, dear; no one knows that I am Mabel Clarke. I am called Miss Broughton."
She laughed shortly. He was still more disturbed, though he did not wish to show it. Confused and embarrassed, he looked at her, finding her more blooming than ever in her irresistible youth, in her face flourishing with beauty and health, in her slender figure dressed in white. Like a lover he exclaimed:
"Nothing matters now that you are here, Mabel, now that I am beside you, now that I press your dear hand, where is all my happiness."