“It was no trouble.” He at once detected the hesitation in her voice.
“'But?'” he said. “That sentence was not finished, signora; there was an unspoken 'but' in the back of your mind.”
“If you look into the backs of people's minds, you mustn't be offended at what you read there. It is not my affair, of course, but I cannot understand——”
“My aversion to Mme. Reni? It is only when——”
“No, your caring to live with her when you feel that aversion. It seems to me an insult to her as a woman and as——”
“A woman!” He burst out laughing harshly. “Is THAT what you call a woman? 'Madame, ce n'est que pour rire!'”
“That is not fair!” she said. “You have no right to speak of her in that way to anyone—especially to another woman!”
He turned away, and lay with wide-open eyes, looking out of the window at the sinking sun. She lowered the blind and closed the shutters, that he might not see it set; then sat down at the table by the other window and took up her knitting again.
“Would you like the lamp?” she asked after a moment.
He shook his head.