He might marry Lucia then, and be welcome.

After all, he was a finer fellow for the pretty girl than Gasparo Carnesecchi, with his claw fingers and his vinegar salad.

That was only a farce, that proposal about the lawyer--the real thing was to get rid of Paolo.

There could be no healthy liberty of thought in the house while this fellow was sneaking in and out at all hours.

Tumble Paolo into a quiet grave--into the river with a sackful of old castings at his neck--there would be peace then, and freedom.