He relapsed into silence; he walked erect, pleased to be going down the Chiado in the company of a woman who was so beautiful, and who attracted so much attention. They passed a group of persons in the street, and he bent towards her with an air of mystery to whisper in her ear,—
“What a charming day!”
When they reached Baltreschi’s he invited her to have some tarts; she declined.
“I am sorry,” he said, “but I too like to be careful in regard to my hours of eating.”
His voice affected Luiza like the importunate humming of an insect; although the day was cool, she felt suffocating; her blood ran like fire through her veins. She felt a sudden impulse to run away; but she continued to walk on slowly, like a somnambulist, longing to cry. Without having any object in view she went into Valente’s, the counsellor following her. It was only half-past one. She hesitated a moment, and then asked a clerk with fair hair and a good-natured countenance to show her some foulard neckties.
“White? colored? with dots?” he asked.
“I will decide afterwards; show me some of different kinds.”
She did not like any of them; she unfolded them, set them aside, and then glanced around her with a pale countenance. The clerk asked her if she was indisposed, and if she would like a glass of water.
It was nothing, she answered 5 the air would do her good, and she would come back some other time. They left the shop. The counsellor, with an air of solicitude, offered to accompany her to a pharmacy, where she might take some orange-flower water. They walked down the Rua Nova do Carmo, the counsellor declaring that the clerk had behaved very courteously. He was not surprised at it, however, for there were many sons of good families engaged in commercial pursuits; and he mentioned some instances; but seeing that his companion remained silent,—
“You do not feel well yet,” he said.