Two rickety but well-dusted
tables were loaded with ancient nicknacks, dating from the early part
of the second French Empire, with impossibly ugly little figures
carved out of cheap alabaster, small decayed photograph albums, and
ingeniously bad wax flowers under glass shades. On the walls hung bad
lithographs of Pius Ninth, Napoleon Third and Metternich, with a large
faded photograph of old Prince Conti as a young man. Malipieri looked
at it curiously, for he guessed that it represented Sabina's father.
The face was clean-shaven, thin and sad, with deep eyes and fair hair
that looked almost white now, as if the photograph had grown old with
the man, while he had lived.
Sassi sat down opposite his visitor. He wore a black cloth cap with a
green tassel, and rubbed his hands slowly while he waited for
Malipieri to speak. The latter hesitated a moment and then went to the
point at once.
"You were the agent of the Conti estate for many years," he said. "I
know the Senator Volterra and have met Donna Sabina. I understand that
her mother has left her under the charge of the Senator's wife, and
seems to have forgotten her existence. The young lady is apparently
without resources of her own, and it is not clear what would become of
her if the Volterra couple should not find it convenient to keep her
with them.
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