Superiore until the farmer,
who had been notified at once, should have had time to prepare and heat
at least one room for their reception. The Controller at once proposed a
three-handed game of _tarocchi_ with the Engineer and Franco. Then
Signora Peppina went away, and Barborin asked Luisa to allow her to
withdraw for a few minutes, and begged her hostess to accompany her. As
soon as he was alone with her friend in the alcove room, she glanced all
about her with wide, frightened eyes, and then whispered: "We are not
here on account of the washing, you know. Not on account of the
washing!" Luisa questioned her silently with face and gestures, for had
she spoken in a loud voice they would have heard her in the hall. This
time Signora Pasotti understood, and replied that she did not know
anything, that her husband had not told her anything, that he had
ordered her to corroborate the story about the washing, but that really
she was not in the least anxious about it. Then Luisa took a piece of
paper and wrote: "What do you suspect?" Signora Pasotti read the words,
and then began a most complicated pantomime: shakings of the head,
rollings of the eyes, sighs, imploring glances towards the ceiling. It
was as if a mighty struggle were going on within her between hope and
fear. At last she uttered an "Ah?" seized the pen, and wrote below
Luisa's question:

"The Marchesa!"

Then she dropped the pen and stood looking at her friend. "She is at
Lodi," she said in an undertone. "The Controller has been to Lodi. So
there you have it!" And she hastened back to the hall, faring to arouse
her husband's suspicions.

The game over, Pasotti went to one of the windows, saying something in a
loud voice about the effect of the twilight, and called Franco to him.
"You must come and see me this evening," he said softly. "I have
something to say to you." Franco sought to excuse himself. He was
starting the next morning for Milan, leaving his family for some time;
he could hardly spend this last evening away from home. Pasotti answered
that it was absolutely necessary. "It concerns your journey to-morrow!"
said he.

* * * * *

"It concerns your journey to-morrow!" As soon as the Pasottis had left
for Albogasio Superiore, Franco repeated the conversation to his wife.
He had been much upset by it. So Pasotti knew! He would not have been so
mysterious had he not been alluding to the journey to Turin, and Franco