quitted them that they might consult together and hit upon the right
thing. His object was to send his valet for Luigi Saracco. He had seen
that no truth could be extracted from these women, save forcibly.
Unaware that he had gone out, Wilfrid listened long enough to hear Irma
say, between sobs: "Oh! I shall throw myself upon his mercy. Oh,
Countess d'Isorella, why did you lead me to think of vengeance! I am
lost! He knows everything. Oh, what is it to me whether she lives with
her husband! Let them go on plotting. I am not the Government. I am
sure I don't much dislike her. Yes, I hate her, but why should I hurt
myself? She will wear those jewels on her forehead; she will wear that
necklace with the big amethysts, and pretend she's humble because she
doesn't carry earrings, when her ears have never been pierced! I am
lost! Yes, you may say, lookup! I am only a poor singer, and he can
ruin me. Oh! Countess d'Isorella, oh! what a fearful punishment. If
Countess Anna should betray Count Ammiani to-night, nothing, nothing,
will save me. I will confess. Let us both be beforehand with her--or
you, it does not matter for a noble lady."

"Hush!" said Violetta. "What dreadful fool is this I sit with? You may
have done what you think of doing already."

She walked to the staircase door, and to that of the suite. An
honourable sentiment, conjoined to the knowledge that he had heard
sufficient, induced Wilfrid to pass on into the sleeping apartment a
moment or so before Violetta took this precaution. The potent liquor of
Pericles had deprived him of consecutive ideas; he sat nursing a thunder
in his head, imagining it to be profound thought, till Pericles flung the
door open. Violetta and Irma had departed. "Behold! I have it; ze
address of your rogue Barto Rizzo," said Pericles, in the manner of one
whose triumph is absolutely due to his own shrewdness. "Are two women a