She interrupted him. 'Upon whatever course I may determine I shall find means to convey the same to my Lord Barbaresco. There will not be the need to trouble you again. For what you have done, sir, I shall remain grateful. So, go with God, Messer Bellarion.'
She was turning away when he arrested her.
'It is a little personal matter this. I am in need of five ducats.'
He saw the momentary frown, chased away by the beginnings of a smile.
'You are consistent in that you misunderstand me, though I have once reminded you that if I needed money for myself I could sell my information to the Regent. The five ducats are for Gobbo who lent me this smock and these tools of my pretended trade.' And he told her the exact circumstances.
She considered him more gently. 'You do not lack resource, sir?'
'It goes with intelligence, madonna,' he reminded her as an argument in favour of what he said. But she ignored it.
'And I am sorry that I ... You shall have ten ducats, unless your pride is above ...'
'Do you see pride in me?'
She looked him over with a certain haughty amusement. 'A monstrous pride, an overweening vanity in your acuteness.'