“No, it isn't; only I think they must get so bored, spending all the evening pinned to such a dull companion.”
“I am afraid we shall all be bored to-night. The conversazione will be dull beyond endurance.”
“Why?”
“Partly because everything Grassini touches becomes as dull as himself.”
“Now don't be spiteful. It is not fair when we are going to be a man's guests.”
“You are always right, Madonna. Well then, it will be dull because half the interesting people are not coming.”
“How is that?”
“I don't know. Out of town, or ill, or something. Anyway, there will be two or three ambassadors and some learned Germans, and the usual nondescript crowd of tourists and Russian princes and literary club people, and a few French officers; nobody else that I know of—except, of course, the new satirist, who is to be the attraction of the evening.”
“The new satirist? What, Rivarez? But I thought Grassini disapproved of him so strongly.”
“Yes; but once the man is here and is sure to be talked about, of course Grassini wants his house to be the first place where the new lion will be on show. You may be sure Rivarez has heard nothing of Grassini's disapproval. He may have guessed it, though; he's sharp enough.”