He was smoking, and Giannetto Rutolo, coming up behind him, caught the delicate aroma of the cigarette with every puff, causing him an intolerable nausea as if it had been poison.
The Duke di Beffi and Paolo Caligaro were at the entrance, already in racing dress.

The duke was making gymnastic movements to test the elasticity of his leather breeches and the strength of his knees.

Little Caligaro was execrating last night's rain, which had made the ground heavy.
'You have a very good chance with _Miching Mallecho_, I consider,' he remarked to Sperelli when he came up.
Giannetto Rutolo heard this forecast with a bitter pang.

He had founded a vague hope on the event of his own victory.

He represented to himself the advantage he might gain over his enemy by a victorious race and a successful duel.