as she looked down at him.

She was silent for a minute, and he sat still, feeling that ingenuity
was powerless just now. Suddenly she turned away, and said in an
agitated tone, "It may be hindered--I am going to my godfather."

In an instant Tito started up, went to the door, locked it, and took out
the key. It was time for all the masculine predominance that was latent
in him to show itself. But he was not angry; he only felt that the
moment was eminently unpleasant, and that when this scene was at an end
he should be glad to keep away from Romola for a little while. But it
was absolutely necessary first that she should be reduced to
passiveness.

"Try to calm yourself a little, Romola," he said, leaning in the easiest
attitude possible against a pedestal under the bust of a grim old Roman.
Not that he was inwardly easy: his heart palpitated with a moral dread,
against which no chain-armour could be found. He had locked-in his
wife's anger and scorn, but he had been obliged to lock himself in with
it; and his blood did not rise with contest--his olive cheek was
perceptibly paled.

Romola had paused and turned her eyes on him as she saw him take his
stand and lodge the key in his scarsella. Her eyes were flashing, and
her whole frame seemed to be possessed by impetuous force that wanted to
leap out in some deed. All the crushing pain of disappointment in her
husband, which had made the strongest part of her consciousness a few
minutes before, was annihilated by the vehemence of her indignation.
She could not care in this moment that the man she was despising as he
leaned there in his loathsome beauty--she could not care that he was her
husband; she could only feel that she despised him. The pride and
fierceness of the old Bardo blood had been thoroughly awaked in her for
the first time.

"Try at least to understand the fact," said Tito, "and do not seek to
take futile steps which may be fatal. It is of no use for you to go to
your godfather. Messer Bernardo cannot reverse what I have done. Only
sit down. You would hardly wish, if you were quite yourself, to make
known to any third person what passes between us in private."

Tito knew that he had touched the right fibre there. But she did not
sit down; she was too unconscious of her body voluntarily to change her
attitude.

"Why can it not be reversed?" she said, after a pause. "Nothing is
moved yet."

"Simply because the sale has been concluded