The great Dane, which had been lying beside him as
usual, now slowly got up, crossed the room, and dropped down again at
his master's feet.
Meanwhile the prince, hands in pockets, had unaccountably become as
silent as he had before been talkative, and Giovanni, upon observing his
brother's sulky expression, leaned forward.
"Well?" he questioned, with a new ring in his voice, for Sansevero's
moodiness was never a good omen. "What are you thinking of? Come, say
it!"
Sansevero paced the length of the room and back; then he burst out:
"Very well, it is this--everything is as bad as can be--so bad that if
you don't marry money, and at once, the Sansevero burial will take place
before you and I are dead. _Nome di Dio!_ how are we to live with no
money?"
"Since you ask my opinion, I have long wondered why you do not live
better than you do," Giovanni answered. "Your income, added to Leonora's
money, must make a very handsome sum. But one of the faults of the
American women is that they are seldom good managers. Leonora is either
no exception to the rule--or else she is getting very miserly. Why, an
Italian on Leonora's income would live like a queen!"
"Be silent!" Sansevero, flushing darkly, flamed into speech. "Before
you dare to criticise the woman who adorns our house! Here is the truth
for you: I haven't one cent of private fortune--I gambled it all away
long ago! More than half of Leonora's money is lost--I lost it.
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