But he began to lose his temper.
"I have no patience with you Italians," he said, gruffly; "you bandy words and play with them as if you enjoyed it." Diavolo, thought I, he is angry at my silence.

What will he be if I speak?
"What do you wish to know, Signor Conte ?" I inquired, in suave tones.
"I wish to know where my daughter is.

Where is she?
Do you understand?
I am asking a question now, and you cannot deny it." I was sitting in front of him, but I rose and pretended to shut the door, thus putting the table and the end of the piano between us, before I answered.
"She is in Rome, Signor Conte," I said.
"With Cardegna ?" he asked, not betraying any emotion.
"Yes." "Very well.

I will have them arrested at once.

That is all I wanted." He put his crutch-stick to the floor as though about to rise.