There was nothing to be done but to be quiet, attentive in small things, and to wait for fair weather again.

After all, he had crossed the Rubicon, and had been very well received on the other side.

It would not be easy to make him go back again.
"My angel," said the Marchesa, throwing away the end of her cigarette, "you have caught cold.

We must go home immediately." "Yes, mamma." With all her languor and laziness and selfishness, the Marchesa was not devoid of tact, least of all where her own ends were concerned, and when she took the trouble to have any object in life at all.

She saw in her daughter's face that something had annoyed her, and she at once determined that no reference should be made to the great business of the moment, and that it would be best to end the evening in general conversation, leaving San Miniato no further opportunity of being alone with Beatrice.