"Not to-day," she thought, and at that moment a faint sound of the band
on the Pincio came floating in by the open window.
"I must go," said David Rossi, rising.
Then she recovered herself and began to talk on other subjects. When
would he come again? He could not say. The parliamentary session opened
soon. He would be very busy.
When David Rossi was gone Roma went upstairs, and Natalina met her
carrying two letters. One of them was going to the post--it was from the
Countess to the Baron. The other was from the Baron to herself.
"MY DEAREST ROMA,--A thousand thanks for the valuable clue about
the Grand Hotel. Already we have followed up your lead, and we
find that the only David Rossi who was ever a waiter there gave as
reference the name of an Italian baker in Soho. Minghelli has gone
to London, and I am sending him this further information. Already
he is fishing in strange waters, and I am sure you are dying to
know if he has caught anything. So am I, but we must possess our
souls in patience.
"But, my dearest Roma, what is happening to your handwriting? It
is so shaky nowadays that I can scarcely decipher some of
it.--With love.
"B."
VII
"DEAR GUARDIAN,--But I'm not--I'm not! I'm not in the least
anxious to hear of what Mr. Minghelli is doing in London, because
I know he is doing nothing, and whatever he says, either through
his own mouth or the mouth of his Italian baker in Soho, I shall
never believe a word he utters. As to Mr. Rossi, I am now
perfectly sure that he does not identify me at all. He believes my
father's daughter is dead, and he has just been telling me a
shocking story of how the body of a young girl was picked out of
the Thames (about the time you took me away from London) and
buried in the name of Roma Roselli. He actually saw the grave and
the tombstone! Some scoundrel has been at work somewhere. Who is
it, I wonder?--Yours,
"R. V."
Having written this letter in the heat and haste of the first moment
after David Rossi's departure, she gave it to Bruno to post immediately.
"Just so!" said Bruno to himself, as he glanced at the superscription.
Next morning she dressed carefully, as if expecting David Rossi as
usual, but when he did not come she told herself she was glad of it.
Things had happened too hurriedly; she wanted time to breathe and to
think.