He straightened his shoulders with an air of finality and picked up his hat from the balustrade.
'Some day, signorina, in New York, perhaps I play a little tune underneaf your window.' She nodded and smiled.
'I will give the monkey a penny when he comes--good-bye.' He bowed over her hand and touched it lightly to his lips.
'Signorina, _addio_!' As he strode away into the dusky lane of cypresses, she heard him whistling softly 'Santa Lucia.' It was the last stroke, she reflected angrily; he might at least have omitted that! She turned away and dropped down on the water-steps to wait for the _Farfalla_.

The terrace, the lake, the beautiful Italian night, suddenly seemed deserted and empty.
Before she knew it was coming, she had leaned her head against the balustrade with a deep sob.

She caught herself sharply.

She to sit there crying, while Tony went whistling on his way! * * * * * As the _Farfalla_ drifted idly over the water, Constance sat in the stern, her chin in her hand, moodily gazing at the shimmering path of moonlight.

But no one appeared to notice her silence, since Nannie was talking enough for both.