Yes. I know what you have come to
say, and it is quite true."
"What?" asked Marcello with some anxiety.
"This man is my father," Regina said, very quietly.
"Your father!" Marcello made half a step backwards in his surprise.
"Yes. I have told you what he did." She turned to Ercole. "What do you
want of me? Is it money that you want, perhaps?"
Ercole stiffened himself and seemed to grow taller. His black eyes
flashed dangerously, and his heavy eyebrows were suddenly stern and
level, as Regina's were.
"You are your mother's daughter," he said slowly. "Did I take money from
her? I took blood, and when I was tried for it, I was set free. I was
told that it was my right under our law. I do not want money. I have
brought you money. There it is. It will buy you some bread when your
lover turns you into the street!"
He took out his old sheepskin purse with a quick movement, and laughed
harshly as he tossed it at her. Marcello sprang forward and caught him
by the collar, to thrust him out of the room; but Ercole was tough and
wiry, and resisted.
"Will you hinder me from giving money to my daughter?" he asked
fiercely. "It was yours, for you paid it to me; but when I knew, I saved
my wages to give them back, for I will not take your money, sir! Take
your hands from me, sir! I have a right to be here and to speak. Let me
go, I tell you! I am not in your service any longer. I do not eat your
cursed bread.
Pages:
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341