She sold herself here and gave herself there. Oh—he could not forget how she had wanted to burst out laughing at the beginning of their conversation. If that was her attitude towards the most important step in her life, how would she behave when she was living with a man she did not love?

She was lost! He held her closer and closer to him with his left arm, laid his head in her lap and with a feeling of the deepest compassion rather than of love for her, he murmured: “Poor child, poor child.” They remained thus a long while; then she bent over him, and certainly without intending him to be conscious of it, kissed him lightly on the hair. It was the nicest thing she had done during all the time he had known her.

Then suddenly everything changed and became brutal and horrible. The thin, monotonous, melancholy drizzle which had accompanied Emilio’s grief with a faint undertone of pity, as it seemed to him at one moment, or of indifference at another, changed without warning into a violent downpour. A cold blast of wind from the sea shattered the rain-drenched atmosphere and hurled itself against them too, snatching them from the dream with which one sweet moment had blessed them. She was terrified at the thought of wetting her clothes, and set off running as fast as she could, refusing to take Emilio’s arm; she needed both her hands to hold up the umbrella against the wind. Her struggle with the wind and rain put her so out of temper that she would not even fix their next meeting: “It will be time enough to think about that when I have got home safely.” He watched her get into the tram, and from his dark corner saw her lovely, indignant face in the yellow lamplight, and her sweet eyes examining intently the extent of the damage done to her clothes by the rain.

4

OFTEN DURING their relationship torrents of rain would come like that, to snatch him violently from the enchantment to which he abandoned himself with such exquisite delight.

Very early next morning he was on his way to Angiolina. He could not tell yet whether he should avenge himself by some biting remark for the way in which she had left him the evening before, or whether, when he saw her living face, he would recover the tender feelings which his painful reflections during the night had threatened to destroy, but of which, as he realized by the anxiety which impelled him to come all this way to seek her, he stood at the moment so much in need.

Angiolina’s mother opened the door to him and gave him the usual friendly words of welcome, which contrasted so strangely with her parchment-like face and harsh-sounding voice. Angiolina was dressing and would come almost immediately.

“And what do you think about it?” the old woman asked suddenly. She was alluding to Volpini’s proposal. He was so surprised that the mother should want to have his approval of Angiolina’s marriage that he hesitated to reply, and she, mistaking the nature of the doubt which she saw written on his face, began trying to convince him: “You see, don’t you, what a piece of luck it is for Angiolina? Even if she is not very fond of him it doesn’t matter; she won’t have to worry about anything, and he will make her happy, I’m sure, for he’s very much in love with her. You should just see him!” She gave a short, harsh laugh which seemed to go no farther than her lips. Evidently she was well satisfied.

On thinking it over he felt quite gratified that Angiolina had made her mother understand how important it was to her that he should give his consent, and he expressed his unqualified approval. He was sorry, he said, that Angiolina was to marry someone else, but seeing it was for her good....The old woman laughed again, but this time her mirth was more facial than vocal, and it seemed to him rather ironic. Did the mother know then about the pact he had made with her daughter? He would not have minded very much if she had. If that laughter was aimed at honest Volpini he had no reason to take it to heart. In this case it certainly could not be intended for himself.

Angiolina appeared fully dressed to go out; she must be quick, for she had to be at Signora Deluigi’s by nine o’clock. He could not bear to leave her so soon, and for the first time they walked along the road together by daylight.

“We seem to make a fine couple,” she said with a smile, seeing that everyone they passed in the street looked around at them. It was indeed impossible to pass her by without looking at her.

Emilio turned to look at her too. Her white dress (which according to the fashion of the moment exaggerated the figure), with its pinched waist and wide sleeves, almost like inflated balloons, clamored to be looked at, and existed for that purpose. Her face rose out of all that whiteness, in no wise overpowered by it, but flaunting its roses unabashed; the thin blood-red curve of her mouth was sharply outlined against her brilliant teeth, and her lips were parted in a gay, sweet smile which she seemed to fling upon the air for the passers-by to catch. The sunlight played among her fair curls, powdering them all over with golden dust.

Emilio blushed. It seemed to him that every passer-by cast an insulting glance at her. He looked at her again himself. It was unmistakable that her eyes gave a kind of greeting to every good-looking man they passed; she did not actually look at him, but there was a sudden lightening in her eye. There was a perpetual movement in the pupil which was continually modifying the intensity and direction of its light. The light in her eye literally seemed to crackle!. Emilio clung to this word, which he felt to characterize so well its ceaseless activity. In the small, rapid, unforeseen movements of the light it was almost as if one heard a slight sound.

“Why do you keep on making eyes?” he asked, forcing a smile to his lips.

She laughed and replied unblushingly: “Me? My eyes were given me to look about with!” So she was conscious all the while of what she was doing with her eyes; she was only deceiving herself in calling it “looking about.”

Soon after they passed a small employee named Guistini, a handsome young man whom Emilio knew by sight. Angiolina’s eye at once became animated and Emilio turned round to see who the lucky mortal was who had just passed.