"Any man would perjure himself for a woman," retorted the Baroness
with contempt.
"No, my dear," the Baron objected, trying to mollify her. "Perjury is
a crime, you know."
"And what he has done is a much worse crime!" she cried.
"I have not committed any crime," Malipieri answered. "I would give
all I possess, and my life, to undo what has happened, but I have
neither said nor done anything to be ashamed of. For Donna Sabina's
sake, you must accept my explanation. In time you will believe it."
"Yes, yes," urged Volterra, "I am sure you will, my dear. In any case
you must accept it as the only one. I will go downstairs with Signor
Malipieri and we will take the porter to the cellars. Then you can go
out with Sabina, and if you are careful no one will ever know that she
has been here."
"And do you mean to let her live under your roof after this?" asked
the Baroness indignantly.
"Her mother is now in Rome," answered Volterra readily. "When she is
dressed, you will take her to the Princess, and you will say that as
we are going away, we are reluctantly obliged to decline the
responsibility of keeping the young girl with us any longer. That is
what you will do."
"I am glad you admit at least that she cannot live with us any
longer," the Baroness answered. "I am sure I have no wish to ruin the
poor girl, who has been this man's unhappy victim--"
"Hush, hush!" interposed Volterra.
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