“People say that the great master, to whom Miss Tottenham sent you, has said that you—”
“What has he said?”
“That you and your images suited Diamante, but nowhere else.”
“Who says such things?”
“People think so, because you are so changed.”
“Since I am a socialist.”
“Why should you be one if you had been successful?”
“Ah, why—? You do not know,” he continued, with a laugh, “that my master in England himself was a socialist. You do not know that it was he who taught me these opinions—”
He paused, and did not go on with the controversy. He went over to the bench where he had been sitting when she came, and brought back a statuette. He handed it to Donna Micaela. He seemed to wish to say: “See for yourself if you are right.”
She took it, and held it up in the moonlight. It was a Mater Dolorosa in black marble. She could see it quite plainly.