'From the first of next month. He has taken legal advice. It is now clear—so he tells me—that you forfeit your settlements.'
'Can I not take legal advice, too?' the Princess asked. Surely I can contest that. I can forfeit my settlements only by an act of my own. The act that led to our separation was his act; he turned me out of his house by physical violence.'
'Certainly,' said Muniment, displaying even in this simple discussion his easy aptitude for argument; 'but since then there have been acts of your own———' He stopped a moment, smiling; then he went on: 'Your whole connection with a secret society constitutes an act, and so does your exercise of the pleasure, which you appreciate so highly, of feeding it with money extorted from an old Catholic and princely family. You know how little it is to be desired that these matters should come to light.'
'Why in the world need they come to light? Allegations in plenty, of course, he would have, but not a particle of proof. Even if Madame Grandoni were to testify against me, which is inconceivable, she would not be able to produce a definite fact.'
'She would be able to produce the fact that you had a little bookbinder staying for a month in your house.'
'What has that to do with it?' the Princess demanded. 'If you mean that that is a circumstance which would put me in the wrong as against the Prince, is there not, on the other side, this circumstance, that while our young friend was staying with me Madame Grandoni herself, a person of the highest and most conspicuous respectability, never saw fit to withdraw from me her countenance and protection?
