"
He rambled on and presently went out upon his balcony and looked
across to Bellagio. Then he appeared to forget Signor Poggi for a
time and presently ate a little of the store of food brought back in
secret by Mr. Ganns on the previous night.
"It is a grief to me," he said again, "that Peter fears treachery
under this roof. Surely God is all powerful and would not suffer my
interesting and harmless life to be snatched away from me by poison?
I shall be very thankful when Peter leaves his horrid profession and
retires and devotes his noble intellect to purer thoughts."
"What became of the soup, Mr. Redmayne?"
"'Grillo' drank every drop and, having done so, my beautiful cat
purred a grace after meat, according to his custom, then sank into
peaceful slumber."
Mark looked at the great blue Persian, who was evidently sleeping in
perfect comfort. It woke to his touch, yawned, spread its paws,
purred gently and then tucked itself up again.
"He's right enough."
"Of course. Jenny tells me that her husband returns to Turin
to-morrow.
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