There is something very terrible in dust at night-time.
"What shall I do?" she moaned. "He will be so angry."
And without further effort she slowly climbed back to
captivity, shaking her garments as she went.
Ill luck pursued her to the end. It was one of the
nights when Gino happened to come in. He was in the
kitchen, swearing and smashing plates, while Perfetta, her
apron over her head, was weeping violently. At the sight of
Lilia he turned upon her and poured forth a flood of
miscellaneous abuse. He was far more angry but much less
alarming than he had been that day when he edged after her
round the table. And Lilia gained more courage from her bad
conscience than she ever had from her good one, for as he
spoke she was seized with indignation and feared him no
longer, and saw him for a cruel, worthless, hypocritical,
dissolute upstart, and spoke in return.
Perfetta screamed for she told him everything--all she
knew and all she thought. He stood with open mouth, all the
anger gone out of him, feeling ashamed, and an utter fool.
He was fairly and rightfully cornered. When had a husband
so given himself away before? She finished; and he was
dumb, for she had spoken truly. Then, alas! the absurdity
of his own position grew upon him, and he laughed--as he
would have laughed at the same situation on the stage.
"You laugh?" stammered Lilia.
"Ah!" he cried, "who could help it? I, who thought you
knew and saw nothing--I am tricked--I am conquered.
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