No one knew how near forty the Princess might be, for she appeared in the _Almanach de Gotha_ without a birthday, and only the date of her marriage was given; but the year was 1884, and people said it was impossible that she should have been less than seventeen when her parents had brought her to Rome and had tried to marry her to the elder of the Chiaromonte family; as twenty years had passed since they had succeeded in capturing the second son for their daughter, it was clear that she could not be under thirty-seven.

But her complexion was extraordinary, and though she was a tall woman she had preserved the figure and grace of a young girl.
Angela did not look directly at her enemy for some seconds after the lawyer had left the room, closing the door behind him, not loudly but quite audibly; but she was the first to speak when she was sure that he was out of hearing.
'You hate me,' she said at last.

'What have I done to you ?' The Princess was not timid, nor very easily surprised, but the question was so direct that she drew further back into her chair with a quick movement, and her bright eye sparkled angrily as she raised her sandy eyebrows.
'In this world,' she said, 'the truth is always surprising and generally unpleasant.

In consideration of what I have been obliged to tell you about yourself, I can easily excuse your foolish speech.' 'You are very kind,' Angela answered quietly enough, but in a tone that the Princess did not like.

'I was not asking your indulgence, but an explanation, no matter how disagreeable the rest of the truth may be.