The evening after their return to Great Ormond Street, Mazzini was surprised by a visit from Clara alone.
‘When I last saw you,’ she said, ‘you told us that you had been helped by women. I offer myself.’
‘But, my dear madam, you hardly know what the qualifications are. To begin with, there must be a knowledge of three foreign languages, French, German and Italian, and the capacity and will to endure great privation, suffering and, perhaps, death.’
‘I was educated abroad, I can speak German and French. I do not know much Italian, but when I reach Italy I will soon learn.’
‘Pardon me for asking you what may appear a rude question. Is it a personal disappointment which sends you to me, or love for the cause? It is not uncommon to find that young women, when earthly love is impossible, attempt to satisfy their cravings with a love for that which is impersonal.’
‘Does it make any difference, so far as their constancy is concerned?’
‘I cannot say that it does. The devotion of many of the martyrs of the Catholic church was repulsion from the world as much as attraction to heaven. You must understand that I am not prompted by curiosity. If you are to be my friend, it is necessary that I should know you thoroughly.’
‘My motive is perfectly pure.’
They had some further talk and parted. After a few more interviews, Clara and another English lady started for Italy. Madge had letters from her sister at intervals for eighteen months, the last being from Venice. Then they ceased, and shortly afterwards Mazzini told Baruch that his sister-in-law was dead.
All efforts to obtain more information from Mazzini were in vain, but one day when her name was mentioned, he said to Madge,—