It was quite safe to trust to him.
San Miniato himself would have greatly preferred to leave the negotiations in the hands of the Marchesa and would have done so had he not known that she possessed no power whatever over Beatrice.

But he saw that the Marchesa, however much she might desire the marriage, would never exert herself to influence her daughter.

She was far too indolent, and at heart, perhaps, too indifferent, and she knew the value of money and especially of her own.

San Miniato made up his mind that if he won at all, it must be upon his own merits and by his own efforts.
He had not found it hard to lead Beatrice away from the lamp when dinner was over, and after walking about on the rocks for a few minutes he proposed that they should sit down near the water, facing the moonlit sea.

Beatrice sat upon a smooth projection and San Miniato placed himself at her feet, in such a position that he could look up into her face and talk to her without raising his voice.
"So you are glad you came here, Donna Beatrice," he said.
"Very glad," she answered.