"Your wife, you say, your wife, but where were you married?"
"In the church of San Giulio, on the island, in the lake of Orta."
"I will assume that you are speaking the truth, assume it without believing it. But then she was your wife years ago. She is divorced."
"Our Church knows no divorce," murmured Baluzzi softly to himself.
"Your laws--"
"Do not recognise it either!"
"Well, then, she has been divorced in some other country where it is permitted."
"I have always remained a subject of Italy, and even here--I had grounds enough for a divorce--remember the villa at Stresa--but I would not."
Baluzzi made a sign of denial. He groaned, and pressed his hand upon his heart. He could not speak any more.
"Horrible," cried Blanden; then he began to perceive what Giulia's heart must have gone through in its passionate love for him--the unbounded deception became comprehensible. He could not but acknowledge to himself that he should never have made his, this vagrant's wife, even if she had been divorced. Giulia had told herself the same, and therefore concealed the past from him.