"
"Love," said San Miniato, "is a necessary evil, but it is also the
greatest source of happiness."
"What a fine phrase!" exclaimed Beatrice. "You must be a professor in
disguise."
"A professor of love?" asked the Count with a very well executed look of
tenderness which did not escape Ruggiero.
"Hush, for the love of heaven!" interposed the Marchesa. "This is too
dreadful!"
"We were not talking of the love of heaven," answered Beatrice
mischievously.
"I was thinking at least of a love that could make any place a heaven,"
said San Miniato, again helping his lack of originality with his eyes.
Ruggiero reflected that it would be but the affair of a second to unship
the heavy brass tiller and bring it down once on the top of his master's
skull. Once would be enough.
"Whose love?" asked Beatrice innocently.
San Miniato looked at her again, then turned away his eyes and sighed
audibly.
"Well?" asked Beatrice. "Will you answer. I do not understand that
language. Whose love would make any place--Timbuctoo, for instance--a
heaven for you?"
"Discretion is the only virtue a man ought to exhibit whenever he has a
chance," said San Miniato.
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