Yet some restraint abode.

Each sat, it seemed, as a man upon his guard.

My cousin watched Gambara's every look whenever the latter turned to speak to Giuliana; the Cardinal-legate did the like by him; and Messer Fifanti watched them both.
And, meantime, Giuliana sat there, listening now to one, now to the other, her lazy smile parting those scarlet lips--those lips that I had kissed that morning--I, whom no one thought of watching! And soon came Messer Annibale Caro, with lines from the last pages of his translation oozing from him.

And when presently Giuliana smote her hands together in ecstatic pleasure at one of those same lines and bade him repeat it to her, he swore roundly by all the gods that are mentioned in Virgil that he would dedicate the work to her upon its completion.
At this the surliness became general once more and my Lord Gambara ventured the opinion--and there was a note of promise, almost of threat, in his sleek tones--that the Duke would shortly be needing Messer Caro's presence in Parma; whereupon Messer Caro cursed the Duke roundly and with all a poet's volubility of invective.
They stayed late, each intent, no doubt, upon outstaying the others.
But since none would give way they were forced in the end to depart together.
And whilst Messer Fifanti, as became a host, was seeing them to their horses, I was left alone with Giuliana.
"Why do you suffer those men ?" I asked her bluntly.

Her delicate brows were raised in surprise.