At the moment, however, he had no time to think of anything but an inducement, and he dashed through whole pickets of scruples to find one.

"They give one such capital strawberry ices at Baliero's," he begged her to believe.

His resolutions did not even reassert themselves when she refused.

He was conscious only that it was a bore that she should refuse, and very inconsistent; hadn't she often dined with him at the Cafe Florian?
His gratification was considerable when she added, "They smoke there, you know," and, it became obvious, by whatever curious process of reasoning she arrived at it, that it was Baliero's restaurant she objected to, and not his society.
"Well," he urged, "there are plenty of places where they don't smoke, though it didn't occur to me that--" "Oh," she laughed; "but you must allow it to occur to you," and she put her finger on her lip.

Considering their solitariness in the crowd, he thought, there was no reason why he should not say that he was under the impression she liked the smell of tobacco.
"There are other places," she went on.