him!"

By this time we had reached my apartments, and as I threw open the
door, I saw that Ferrari was taking in with a critical eye the costly
fittings and luxurious furniture. In answer to this last remark, I said
with a chilly smile:

"And as _I_ told YOU before, my dear Signor Ferarri, I know nothing
whatever about women, and care less than nothing for their loves or
hatreds! I have always thought of them more or less as playful kittens,
who purr when they are stroked the right way, and scream and scratch
when their tails are trodden on. Try this Montepulciano!"

He accepted the glass I proffered him, and tasted the wine with the air
of a connoisseur.

"Exquisite!" he murmured, sipping it lazily. "You are lodged en prince
here, conte! I envy you!"

"You need not," I answered. "You have youth and health, and--as you
have hinted to me--love; all these things are better than wealth, so
people say. At any rate, youth and health are good things--love I have
no belief in. As for me, I am a mere luxurious animal, loving comfort
and ease beyond anything. I have had many trials--I now take my rest in
my own fashion."

"A very excellent and sensible fashion!" smiled Ferrari, leaning his
head easily back on the satin cushions of the easy-chair into which he
had thrown himself.

"Do you know, conte, now I look at you well, I think you must have been
very handsome when you were young! You have a superb figure.'"

I bowed stiffly. "You flatter me, signor! I believe I never was
specially hideous--but looks in a man always rank second to strength,
and of strength I have plenty yet remaining."

"I do not doubt it," he returned, still regarding me attentively with
an expression in which there was the faintest shadow of uneasiness.

"It is an odd coincidence, you will say, but I find a most
extraordinary resemblance in the height and carriage of your figure to
that of my late friend Romani."

I poured some wine out for myself with a steady hand, and drank it.

"Really?" I answered. "I am glad that I remind you of him--if the
reminder is agreeable! But all tall men are much alike so far as figure
goes, providing they are well made."

Ferrari's brow was contracted in a musing frown and he answered not. He
still looked at me, and I returned his look without embarrassment.
Finally he roused himself, smiled, and finished drinking his glass of
Montepulciano. Then he rose to go.

"You will permit me to mention your name to