Armytage sat pale, silent, open-mouthed.
“Then the police intend to hound the Signorina Fanetti from Leghorn?” he observed blankly.
“The Italian police possess power to expel summarily from a town any person of whom they have suspicion,” the Consul replied calmly.
“But what do they suspect?” he cried, bewildered. “You speak as if she were some common criminal or adventuress.”
“I have, unfortunately, no further knowledge of the discovery they have made regarding her. It must, however, be some serious allegation, or they would not go the length of expelling her from the city.”
“But why should she be expelled?” he protested angrily. “She has committed no offence. Surely there is some protection for a defenceless woman!”
Hutchinson raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders, an expressive gesture one soon acquires after residence in Italy.
“The Questore has supreme power in such a matter,” he said. “He is a very just and honourable official, and I’m sure he would never have taken these steps to avoid you disgrace if there were not some very strong reasons.” Charles Armytage, leaning upon the edge of the Consul’s table, held down his head in deep contemplation.
“Then to-morrow they will order her to quit this place?” he observed thoughtfully. “It’s unjust and brutal! Such treatment of a peaceful woman is scandalous!”
“But remember you’ve admitted that you have no knowledge of her past,” Hutchinson said. “Is it not possible that the police have discovered some fact she has concealed from you?”