'It was all charity, sir—charity.'
'Really, was it all charity?' Don Gennaro sneered wickedly.
'There was some little thing for myself, sir,' Don Pasqualino sighed out, with a flash of malicious amusement in his eyes.
'Then, there is no use in going to the police-court?'
'We had better go there, all the same; you will be satisfied with me.'
They got down at the big gateway in Concezione Street, where the guardians of the public safety were going and coming. It was a tremendous effort to the medium to go up the stairs; he lost his breath at every step.
'Rather an effort, eh?' the usurer said more than once.
'Don't leave me, don't desert me!' the medium sighed out.
At last they got to the first-floor, where Don Gennaro, respectfully saluted by the ushers, asked if there was a magistrate present. There was not. The head-clerk was there; he had them shown in at once, and was most ceremonious.
'Here is Signor Pasqualino De Feo; he wants to make a statement,' said the money-lender, setting to smoking a cigarette, after offering the head-clerk one, looking the medium straight in the eyes.