Christina descended to the arena in silence, apparently occupied with her own thoughts.

She betrayed no sense of the privacy of her interview with Roderick needing an explanation.

Rowland had seen stranger things in New York! The only evidence of her recent agitation was that, on being joined by her maid, she declared that she was unable to walk home; she must have a carriage.
A fiacre was found resting in the shadow of the Arch of Constantine, and Rowland suspected that after she had got into it she disburdened herself, under her veil, of a few natural tears.
Rowland had played eavesdropper to so good a purpose that he might justly have omitted the ceremony of denouncing himself to Roderick.

He preferred, however, to let him know that he had overheard a portion of his talk with Christina.
"Of course it seems to you," Roderick said, "a proof that I am utterly infatuated." "Miss Light seemed to me to know very well how far she could go," Rowland answered.

"She was twisting you round her finger.