er the power to bind
and loose. It's a false relationship to stand in towards one's fellows."

Martini held up his hands. "That will do, Madonna," he said, laughing.
"I am not going to discuss with you, once you begin talking rank
Antinomianism in that fashion. I'm sure your ancestors must have been
English Levellers in the seventeenth century. Besides, what I came round
about is this MS."

He pulled it out of his pocket.

"Another new pamphlet?"

"A stupid thing this wretched man Rivarez sent in to yesterday's
committee. I knew we should come to loggerheads with him before long."

"What is the matter with it? Honestly, Cesare, I think you are a little
prejudiced. Rivarez may be unpleasant, but he's not stupid."

"Oh, I don't deny that this is clever enough in its way; but you had
better read the thing yourself."

The pamphlet was a skit on the wild enthusiasm over the new Pope with
which Italy was still ringing. Like all the Gadfly's writing, it was
bitter and vindictive; but, notwithstanding her irritation at the
style, Gemma could not help recognizing in her heart the justice of the
criticism.

"I quite agree with you that it is detestably malicious," she said,
laying down the manuscript. "But the worst thing about it is that it's
all true."

"Gemma!"

"Yes, but it is. The man's a cold-blooded eel, if you like; but he's
got the truth on his side. There is no use in our trying to persuade
ourselves that this doesn't hit the mark--it does!"

"Then do you suggest that we should print it?"

"Ah! that's quite another matter. I certainly don't think we ought to
print it as it stands; it would hurt and alienate everybody and do no
good. But if he would rewrite it and cut out the personal attacks,
I think it might be made into a really valuable piece of work. As
political criticism it is very fine. I had no idea he could write so
well. He says things which need saying and which none of us have had
the courage to say. This passage, where he compares Italy to a tipsy
man weeping with tenderness on the neck of the thief who is picking his
pocket, is splendidly written."

"Gemma! The very worst bit in the whole thing! I hate that ill-natured
yelping at everything and everybody!"

"So do I; but that's not the point. Rivarez has a very disagreeable
style, and as a human being he is not attractive; but when he says that
we have made ourselves drunk with processions and embracing and shouting
about love and reconc