ls of mediaeval Italy were stained with blood and
tears because of the Tor di Rocca, and their loves that ended always
in cruelty and horror, and Filippo had all the instincts of his
decadent race. In love he was pitiless; no impulses of tenderness or
of chivalry restrained him, and his methods were primeval and violent.
Probably the Rape of the Sabines was his ideal of courtship, but the
subsequent domesticity, the settling down of the Romans with their
stolen wives, would have been less to his taste.

"Filippo!" Gemma cried again, and this time he let her go.

"You may breathe for one minute," he said, looking at his watch.
"There is not much time."

He drew the chair towards the table and sat down. "Come!" he said
imperatively, but she shook her head.

"Ah, Filippo, I love you, but you must listen. Did you see my
_fidanzato_ in our box at the theatre last night?"

"Yes, and I am glad he is so ugly. I shall not be jealous. You must
give me your address in Lucca," he said coolly.

Her face fell. "You will let me marry him? You--you do not mind?"

He made a grimace. "I do not like it, but I cannot help it."

"But he makes me sick," she said tremulously. "I hate him to touch
me."

It seemed that her words lit some fire in him. His hot eyes sparkled
as he stretched out his arms to her. "Ah, come to me now then."

She stood still by the table watching him fearfully. "Filippo, I
hoped--I thought you would take me away."

"It is impossible. I cannot even see you again until after Christmas.
It will be safer--better not. But in January I will come to Lucca, and
then--"

He hesitated, weighing his words, weighing his thought and his desire.

"And then?" she said.

He looked at her closely, deliberately, divining the beauty that was
half hidden from him. Her parted lips were lovely, and the texture of
her white skin was satin smooth as the petals of a rose; there was no
fault in the pure oval of her face, in the line of her black brows. He
could see no flaw in her now, and he believed that she would still
seem unsurpassably fair after a lapse of time.

"Then, if you still wish it, I will take you away. You shall have a
villa at San Remo--"

"I understand," she said hurriedly, and she covered her face with her
hands.

She had hoped to be the Princess Tor di Rocca, and he had offered to
keep her still as his _amica_. Presently, if she wished it and it
still suited him, he would set her feet on the way that l