Then he said:
'Really, dear, it's too serious to be impulsive about. Take time.'
'Very well, Landi. I promise you that.'
'Then we'll meet again afterwards and talk it over. I'll come and see you.'
'Very well. And mustn't I tell him anything? Not make him a little bit happy?'
'Tell him nothing. Be nice to him. Enjoy your drive. Put off all decision at present.'
He looked at her. Her eyes were sparkling, her colour, her expression were deepened. She looked all animation, with more life than he had ever seen in her…. Somehow the sight made his heart ache a little, a very little.
Poor girl! Of course she had been starving for love, and hidden the longing under domestic interests, artistic, social, but human. But she deserved real love, a real lover. She was so loyal, so true herself.
'Tiens! You look like a lamp that has been lighted,' said Sir Tito, chuckling a little to himself. 'Eh, bien!—and the pretty nurse? Does she still dance the Cachuca? I know I'm old-fashioned, but it's impossible for me not to associate everything Spanish with the ridiculous. I think of guitars, mantillas, sombreros, or—what else is it? Ah, I know—onions.'
'She isn't even Spanish, really!'