"I have."
"And in what country have you found the most beautiful women!"
"Pardon me, young sir," I answered, coldly, "the business of life has separated me almost entirely from feminine society. I have devoted myself exclusively to the amassing of wealth, understanding thoroughly that gold is the key to all things, even to woman's love; if I desired that latter commodity, which I do not. I fear that I scarcely know a fair face from a plain one--I never was attracted by women, and now at my age, with my settled habits, I am not likely to alter my opinion concerning them--and I frankly confess those opinions are the reverse of favorable."
Ferrari laughed. "You remind me of Fabio!" he said. "He used to talk in that strain before he was married--though he was young and had none of the experiences which may have made you cynical, conte! But he altered his ideas very rapidly--and no wonder!"
"Is his wife so very lovely then?" I asked.
"Very! Delicately, daintily beautiful. But no doubt you will see her for yourself--as a friend of her late husband's father, you will call upon her, will you not?"
"Why should I?" I said, gruffly--"I have no wish to meet her! Besides, an inconsolable widow seldom cares to receive visitors--I shall not intrude upon her sorrows!"
Never was there a better move than this show of utter indifference I affected. The less I appeared to care about seeing the Countess Romani, the more anxious Ferrari was to introduce me--(introduce me!--to my wife!)--and he set to work preparing his own doom with assiduous ardor.
"Oh, but you must see her!" he exclaimed, eagerly. "She will receive you, I am sure, as a special guest. Your age and your former acquaintance with her late husband's family will win from her the utmost courtesy, believe me! Besides, she is not really inconsolable--" He paused suddenly. We had arrived at the entrance of my hotel. I looked at him steadily.
"Not really inconsolable?" I repeated, in a tone of inquiry ferrari broke into a forced laugh, "Why no!" he said, "What would you? She is young and light-hearted--perfectly lovely and in the fullness of youth and health. One cannot expect her to weep long, especially for a man she did not care for."
I ascended the hotel steps. "Pray come in!" I said, with an inviting movement of my hand. "You must take a glass of wine before you leave. And so--she did not care for him, you say?"