So far as he knew, Folco had always been singularly frank with him, and had never deceived him in the smallest thing, even "for his own good." Marcello could only attribute good motives to him, but the mere idea of being watched was excessively disagreeable.

He wondered whether Settimia had influenced Regina to get him away from Paris, acting under directions from Corbario.

Was Regina deceiving him too, "for his own good"?
If there is anything a man cannot bear from those he loves best, it is that they should take counsel together secretly to direct him "for his own good." Marcello tried to put the thought out of his mind; but it had dawned upon him for the first time that Folco could tell even a pious falsehood.

Yet he had no proof whatever that he had guessed right; it was a sudden impression and nothing more.

He was much more silent during the rest of the afternoon as he drove up to Pontresina with Folco, and it seemed to him that he had at last touched something definite; which was strange enough, considering that it was all a matter of guess-work and doubt.
And now fate awoke again and did one of those little things that decide men's lives.