Nella should have liked any one to dare to say that she had married an ignorant man! And so forth.

And so on.
Marietta heard the voice without listening to the words, and the gentle, half-complaining, half-reproving tone was rather soothing than otherwise.

She sat by the half-closed window with her bead work, while Nella talked, and brushed, and moved about the room, making imaginary small tasks in order to talk the more.

But Marietta threaded the red and blue beads and fastened them in patterns upon the piece of stuff she was ornamenting, and when Nella looked at her every now and then, she seemed quite calm and indifferent.

There had always been something inscrutable about her.
She was wondering why she had submitted to be betrothed to Contarini, when she loved Zorzi; and the answer did not come.