He had said and done nothing to deter me from my settled plans.

Had he shown the least tenderness of recollection for me as Fabio Romani, his friend and benefactor--had he hallowed my memory by one generous word--had he expressed one regret for my loss--I might have hesitated, I might have somewhat changed my course of action so that punishment should have fallen more lightly on him than on her.

For I knew well enough that she, my wife, was the worst sinner of the two.

Had SHE chosen to respect herself, not all the forbidden love in the world could have touched her honor.

Therefore, the least sign of compunction or affection from Ferrari for me, his supposed dead friend, would have turned the scale in his favor, and in spite of his treachery, remembering how SHE must have encouraged him, I would at least have spared him torture.