That is in the
book, I am sure."
"It was an accident," said Marietta. "The copper ladle fell into the
glass. Zorzi told me about it."
"Are you sure? That is possible. The very same thing happened to Paolo
Godi, and that was how he discovered the colour. But there is the white
glass, which is so like mine, though it is better. That may have been an
accident too. Or the boy may have tried an experiment upon mine by
adding something to it."
"It is at least sure that the book has not been touched, and that is the
main thing. You admit that he is quite innocent, do you not? Quite,
quite innocent?"
"Yes, I do. It would be very unjust not to admit it."
Marietta drew a long breath of relief, for she had scarcely hoped to
accomplish so much in so short a time. The rest would follow, she felt
sure.
"I would give a great deal to see Zorzi at once," said her father, at
last, as he replaced the manuscript in the box and shut the lid.
"Not half as much as I would!" Marietta almost laughed, as she spoke.
"Father," she added gently, and resting one hand upon his shoulder, "I
have given you back your book, I have given you back the innocent man
you trusted, instead of the villain invented by my brother. What will
you give me?"
She smiled and rubbed her cheek against his shoulder.
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