t four words had
photographed themselves upon his brain before he had realised their
meaning, or even that he had seen them.

"I love another man."

Those were the words, and he had never seen the handwriting, but he knew
that Cecilia had written them. Guido's cry for some sort of consolation
was still ringing in his ears.

"It is impossible," he said, in a dull voice. "She cannot break off such
an engagement."

"She has," Guido answered, still looking away. "It is done. She has
written to say that she will never marry me."

"Why?" Lamberti asked mechanically.

"Because----" Guido stopped short. "That is her secret. Unless she chooses
to tell you herself."

Lamberti knew the secret already, but he would not pain Guido by saying
so. The four words he had read had explained enough, though he had not
the slightest clew to the name of the man concerned, and his anger was
rising quietly, as it did when he was going to be dangerous. He loved
Cecilia much and unreasoningly, yet so long as his friend had stood
between her and himself he had been strong enough not to be jealous of
him; but he was under no obligation to that other man, and now he wished
that he had him in his hands. Moreover, his anger was against the girl,
too.

"It is outrageous," he said, at last, with a conviction that comforted
Guido a little. "It is perfectly abominable! What shall you do?"

"I can do nothing, of course."

Guido tossed on his pillows, turned his head, and stared at Lamberti,
hoping to be contradicted.

"It is of no use to go to bed because a woman is faithless," answered
Lamberti rather savagely. Guido almost laughed.

"I am ill," he said. "I can hardly stand. She telephoned to me to go and
see her, but I could not, and so she wrote what she had to say. It is
just as well. I am glad she cannot see me just now."

"I wish she could," answered Lamberti, closing his teeth on the words
sharply. "But you will see her, will you not?" he asked, after a pause.
"You will not accept such a dismissal without telling her what you think
of her?"

"Why should I tell her anything? If I have not succeeded in making her
love me yet, I shall never succeed at all! It is better to bear it as if
I had never expected anything else."

"Is there any reason why a woman should be allowed to do with impunity
what one man would shoot another for doing?" asked Lamberti, roughly.
"She has changed her mind once, she can be made to change it again."