"You will find out some day, Donna Beatrice, that those who are most in
earnest are not those who make the most passionate speeches."
"Ah! Is that true? How strange! I should have supposed that if a man
said nothing it was because he had nothing to say. But you have such
novel theories!"
"Is this discussion never to end?" asked the Marchesa, wearily lifting
her hand as though in protest, and letting it fall again beside the
other.
"It has only just begun, mamma," answered Beatrice cheerfully. "When San
Miniato jumps into the sea and drowns himself in despair, you will know
that the discussion is over."
"Beatrice! My child! What language!"
"Italian, mamma carissima. Italian with a little Sicilian, such as we
speak."
"I am at your service, Donna Beatrice," said the Count. "Would you like
me to drown myself immediately, or are you inclined for a little more
conversation?"
Ruggiero had now taken the helm altogether. As San Miniato spoke he
nodded to his brother who was forward, intimating that he meant to go
about. He was certainly not in his normal frame of mind, for he had an
evil thought at that moment.
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