Marcello at last saw Folco as he was, though still without understanding
the worst, and with no suspicion that Folco wished him out of the world,
and had deliberately set to work to kill him by dissipation; and the
disgust he felt was the most horrible sensation that he could remember.
At the same time he saw himself and his whole life, and the perplexity
of his position frightened him.
It seemed impossible to go back and live under the same roof with
Corbario now. He flushed with shame when he remembered the luncheon at
Saint Moritz, and how he had been almost persuaded to leave poor Regina
suddenly, and to go back to Paris with his stepfather. He saw through
the devilish cleverness of the man's arguments, and when he remembered
that his dead mother's name had been spoken, a thrill of real pain ran
through his body and he clenched his teeth and his hands.
He asked himself how he could meet Folco after that, and the only answer
was that if they met they must quarrel and part, not to meet again.
He told Regina that he would not go back to the villa after they reached
Rome, but would live in the little house in Trastevere. To his surprise,
she looked grave and shook her head. She had never asked him what was
making him so silent and thoughtful, but she had guessed much of the
truth from little things; she herself had never trusted Corbario since
she had first seen his face at the hospital, and she had long foreseen
the coming struggle.
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