The latter, always for his dignity's sake, had pretended to refuse, and had then secretly arranged the matter for Jacopo, as has been seen, without old Contarini's knowledge.
Marietta leaned back under the cool, dark 'felse,' and her hands lay idly in her lap.

She felt that she was helpless, because she was indifferent, and that she could even now have changed the course of her destiny if she had cared to make the effort.

There was no reason for making any.

She did not believe that she had really loved Zorzi after all, and if she had, it seemed to-day quite impossible that she should ever have married him.

He was nothing but a waif, a half-nameless servant, a stranger predestined to a poor and obscure life.