San Miniato might think what he pleased.

She knew that whatever she did, he would never think of breaking off the engagement, since what he wanted was not herself but her fortune.

She shut her parasol with a rather vicious snap as she went into the cool hall out of the sun, and the hard look in her face was more accentuated than before, as she slowly ascended the steps.
The conversation between her mother and San Miniato during her short absence had been characteristic.

They understood each other perfectly but neither would have betrayed to the other, by the merest hint, the certainty that the marriage was by no means agreeable to poor Beatrice herself.
"Dearest Marchesa," said San Miniato, touching her hand with his lips, and then seating himself beside her, "tell me that you are not too much exhausted after your exertions last night?
Have you slept well?
Have you any appetite ?" "What a good doctor you would make, dear friend!" exclaimed the Marchesa with a little smile.
And so they exchanged the amenities usual at their first meeting in the day, as though they had not been buying and selling an innocent soul, and did not appreciate the fact in its startling reality.

Several more phrases of the same kind were spoken.
"And how is Donna Beatrice ?" inquired San Miniato at last.
"Why not call her Beatrice ?" asked the Marchesa carelessly.