She stood there, young, strong, beautiful, and absolutely penniless; and Rome was before her.
For the first time since the previous evening she asked herself what was to become of her, and how she was to find bread for that day and for the next, and for all the days afterwards.

She would have robbed a church to feed Marcello, but she would sooner have lost her right hand than steal so much as a crust for herself.

As for begging, she was too proud, and besides, no one would have given her anything, for she was the picture of health, her rough clothes were whole and clean, she had tiny gold earrings in her ears, and the red and yellow cotton kerchief on her head was as good as new.

Nobody would believe that she was hungry.
Meanwhile Marcello was made comfortable in one of the narrow white beds of an airy ward in the San Giovanni hospital.

The institution is intended for women only, but there is now a ward for male patients, who are admitted when too ill to be taken farther.