"No, what they want is that the undertaking should no longer be in Greek hands. It is a policy which they are extending to the whole of the Eastern Mediterranean. We have no choice. Read the telegrams; we must sell immediately at the best price we can."
"What conditions does the Credito Milanese offer you?"
"They are not too good. But at any rate they are the best we can get. But, you understand, we will never sell to Italians. To come to the point. What I propose is this: are you disposed to take it over again?"
"What a shifting venture ..." thought Lewis.
This San Lucido enterprise had come and gone in his life during the past year like an absurd romantic refrain. He saw again the glittering sea and a young woman sounding with brown arms. He saw again the pure profile of the Sicilian hills and the shimmering blue sky. A cry burst from him, the first in his life:
"Irene! don't leave me!"
"Come. You heard what I said. Think it over. Let your words be measured by the thought that this is our last conversation. Make your calculations. That is what you are here for. It was much more difficult for me to ask you to come ..."
"You needn't go on. I have already had proof of your pride."
Irene in her turn felt herself weakening under the bitterness of their words. But she controlled herself.
"Let us try to keep the balance between insolence and affliction, if you don't mind?"