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Sabatini, Rafael, 1875-1950

"The Strolling Saint; being the confessions of the high and mighty Agostino D'Anguissola, tyrant of Mondolfo and Lord of Carmina in the state of Piacenza"


At last, Fifanti spoke, his little eyes narrowing.
"It is too much for my poor deserts," he said curtly.
"You are too humble," said the prelate. "Your loyalty to the House of
Farnese, and the hospitality which I, its deputy, have received..."
"Hospitality!" barked Fifanti, and looked very oddly at Giuliana; so oddly
that a faint colour began to creep into her cheeks. "You would pay for
that?" he questioned, half mockingly. "Oh, but for that a stipend of three
hundred ducats is too little."
And all the time his eyes were upon his wife, and I saw her stiffen as if
she had been struck.
But the Cardinal laughed outright. "Come now, you use me with an amiable
frankness," he said. "The stipend shall be doubled when you join the
council."
"Doubled?" he said. "Six hundred...?" He checked. The sum was vast. I
saw greed creep into his little eyes. What had troubled him hitherto, I
could not fathom even yet. He washed his bony hands in the air, and looked
at his wife again. "It...it is a fair price, no doubt, my lord," said he,
his tone contemptuous.
"The Duke shall be informed of the value of your learning," lisped the
Cardinal.
Fifanti knit his brows. "The value of my learning?" he echoed, as if
slowly puzzled. "My learning? Oh! Is that in question?"
"Why else should we give you the appointment?" smiled the Cardinal, with a
smile that was full of significance.


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