He was now discussing the strength of parties in the recent Roman municipal elections with the American Monsignore, talking with all his usual vehemence.

Nevertheless, through it all, it seemed to her, that she was watched, that in some continuous and subtle way he held her in sight.
How cold and ungrateful he must have thought her the night before! To-day, at breakfast, and in the train, he had hardly spoken to her.
Yet--mysteriously--Lucy felt herself threatened, hard pressed.

Alice Manisty's talk in that wild night haunted her ear.

Her hand, cold and tremulous, shook on her knee.

Even the voice of the Ambassador startled her.
After luncheon the Ambassador's guests fell into groups on the large shady lawn of the Embassy garden.
The Ambassador introduced Lucy to the blue-eyed Lombard, Fioravanti, while he, pricked with a rueful sense of duty, devoted himself for a time to the wife of the English Admiral who had been Lady Mary's neighbour at luncheon.
The Ambassador examined her through his half-closed eyes, as he meekly offered to escort her indoors to see his pictures.