Marzio ground his teeth as he thought how nearly he had done the thing, and how miserably he had failed.

It had been the inspiration of the moment, and the details had appeared clear at once to his mind.

Going over them he found that he had not been mistaken.

If Paolo came again, and he had the chance, he would do it.

It was perhaps all the better that he had found time to weigh the matter.
But would Paolo come again?
Would he ever trust himself alone in the workshop?
Had he guessed, when he turned so suddenly and saw the weapon in the air, that the blow was on the very point of descending?
Or had he been deceived by the clumsy excuse Marzio had made about the sum shining in his eyes?
He had remained calm, or Marzio tried to think so.