“They are secret enemies, it seems,” Ghelardi said slowly, looking at his visitor meaningly.
Hubert did not reply for a few moments. At last he said:
“And they include yourself, Signor Commendatore.”
The cunning old fellow smiled.
“Ah, you are referring, I suppose, to that incident of the other night. Well, I think we may surely let that pass. We all of us have our hours of irresponsibility,” and he slowly twisted the diamond ring around his little finger, laughing lightly.
“Thank you. I have no desire for your covert sneers, Signor Commendatore,” he said angrily, rising. “As I have told you—you are my secret enemy, and I shall treat you as such.”
“It is rather a pity that you do so.”
“A pity—why?”
“For the sake of Her Royal Highness.”
“Her name need not enter into our discussion,” Hubert said hotly, his hand upon the door ready to leave. “I do not see your object in troubling me to come here, merely to tell me of the attack made upon me by two criminals which the police should already have under lock and key. It is not much to the credit of the department that the streets of Rome are unsafe at night.”