Gustavo looked after him reproachfully.

As a head waiter, he naturally did not expect to read the letters of guests; but as a fellow conspirator, he felt that he was entitled to at least a general knowledge of all matters bearing on the conspiracy.

He turned back downstairs with a disappointed droop to his shoulders.
Tony closed his door and walked to the window, where he stood staring at the roof of Villa Rosa.

He drew the letter from his pocket and read it for the third time slowly, thoughtfully, very, very soberly.

The reason was clear; she was tired of Tony and was looking ahead for fresh worlds to conquer.