Close beside her was Aurora, leaning forward a little, with an expression of cold curiosity; she had already seen Regina, who did not withdraw her hand from Marcello's arm.
"You here ?" he cried, recovering himself quickly.
As he spoke, the Contessa realised the situation, and at the same moment Marcello met Aurora's eyes.

Regina felt his arm drop by his side, as if he were disowning her in the presence of these two smart women who were friends of his.

She forgave him, for she was strangely humble in some ways, but she hated them forthwith.
The Contessa, who was a woman of the world, nodded quietly and smiled as if she had seen nothing, but she at once began to steer her daughter in a divergent direction.
"You are looking very ill," she said, turning her head back as she moved away.

"Come and see us." "Where ?" asked Marcello, making half a step to follow, and looking at the back of Aurora's head and at the pretty hat she wore.
The Contessa named a quiet hotel in the Rue Saint Honore, and was gone in the crowd.

Marcello stood quite still for a moment, staring after the two.