There was soon hardly any breeze at all, so that Bastianello and the other men shipped half-a-dozen oars and began to row.

The operation of going about involved a change of places in so small a boat and the slight confusion had interrupted the conversation.

A long silence followed, broken at last by the Marchesa's voice.
"A cigarette, Teresina, and some more lemonade.

Are you still there, San Miniato carissimo?
As I heard no more conversation I supposed you had drowned yourself as you proposed to do." "Donna Beatrice is so kind as to put off the execution until after dinner." "And shall we ever reach this dreadful place, and ever really dine ?" asked the Marchesa.
"Before sunset," answered San Miniato.

"And we shall dine at our usual hour." "At least it will not be so hot as in the hotel, and after all it has not been very fatiguing." "No," said the Count, "I fail to see how your exertions can have tired you much." Ruggiero looked down at his master and at the fine lady as she lay listlessly extended in her cane chair, and he felt that in his heart he hated them both as much as he loved Beatrice, which was saying much.