So vehement was Petronilla's speech, and so
convincing, thus delivered, seemed her argument, that Basil felt his
heart sink. Had she, then, outwitted him? Was he really playing the
part of a simpleton, at whom people laughed? He remembered the
seeming indifference of Bessas touching Veranilda at the second
interview, natural enough if the maiden had already passed into the
Greek's hands. Two days ago Marcian had told him that Petronilla
must needs be aware of Veranilda's importance, seeing that it was
now common knowledge in Roman society. But a thought flashed into
his mind, and he lifted up his head again.
'This is not true!' he exclaimed. 'If Bessas had found her, I should
have known it.'
'Pray, how? Does your foolish little lordship imagine that Bessas
must needs have told you all he has done?'
'Bessas? no,' he answered, his eyes burning with hatred as they
searched her face. 'But I have other means of learning the truth.
You try vainly to deceive me.'
'As you will, good nephew,' said the lady, as if indulgently.
'Believe as you list, and talk on, for you entertain me.
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