He sent for the porter, listened to his story attentively, and without
expressing any opinion about what had happened, went directly to the
palace in the cab which had brought the old man. He made the latter
sit beside him, because it would be an excellent opportunity of
showing the world that he was truly democratic. Half of Rome knew him
by sight at least, though not one in twenty thousand could have
defined his political opinions.
At the palace he paid the cabman instead of keeping him by the hour,
for he expected to stay some time, and it was against his principles
to spend a farthing for what he did not want. As he entered through
the postern, he glanced approvingly at the damp pavement. He did not
in the least believe that the porter washed it every morning, of
course, but he appreciated the fact that the man evidently wished him
to think so, and was afraid of him.
"You say that you rang several times at Signor Malipieri's door," he
said. "Has he not told you that he is going to live somewhere else?"
"No, sir."
"Does he never leave his key with you when he goes out?"
"No, sir."
"Did you see him come in last night? Was he at home?"
"No, sir. I rang several times, about dusk, but no one opened. I did
not hear him come in after that. Shall I go up and ring again?"
"No.
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