"The signorina has doubtless taken it away with her.

The fact is of good omen; for it proves that she did not go unexpectedly, and is likely to return when it may best suit her convenience." "This is very singular," observed Kenyon.

"Have the rooms been entered by yourself, or any other person, since the signorina's disappearance ?" "Not by me, Signore, so help me Heaven and the saints!" said the matron.
"And I question whether there are more than two keys in Rome that will suit this strange old lock.

Here is one; and as for the other, the signorina carlies it in her pocket." The sculptor had no reason to doubt the word of this respectable dame.
She appeared to be well meaning and kind hearted, as Roman matrons generally are; except when a fit of passion incites them to shower horrible curses on an obnoxious individual, or perhaps to stab him with the steel stiletto that serves them for a hairpin.

But Italian asseverations of any questionable fact, however true they may chance to be, have no witness of their truth in the faces of those who utter them.
Their words are spoken with strange earnestness, and yet do not vouch for themselves as coming from any depth, like roots drawn out of the substance of the soul, with some of the soil clinging to them.