“Yes, I think you’re right,” he answered. “With your permission, I’ll deceive the young lady and save up my debates for some future breakfast table.”
“To a gay and worthy happiness for you and her,” said Ballau, raising one of the glasses.
His voice had grown soft, but his eyes, as De Medici smiled back to him, turned away. The young man replaced his glass and, despite himself, felt again the curious presences that had haunted him a half hour before ... presences that awoke always under the influence of symbols—opened doors, darkened windows, lights gleaming in mirrors ... and enigmatic faces.
“There’s something else,” whispered itself in his thought, and for a moment he stared fearfully at the averted eyes of his friend. Then, recovering himself, he said:
“Shall we go down to the theater for the performance?”
Ballau shook his head.
“I’d rather read,” he answered. “And, besides, from now on I feel I’d only be in the way.”
“Nonsense!” De Medici smiled. “I’ve a clever idea for making love ... and I’m not at all averse to an enlarged audience....”
Ballau smiled refusal and De Medici bowed slightly.
“I’ll see you to-morrow then,” he said, and walked from the room.