“At the Central Hotel. When shall we see each other again?”
“Whenever you wish.”
“Is it permitted to kiss the hand of an old—friend and cousin?” he asked, smiling, and taking Luiza’s hand in his.
“Why not?”
Bazilio imprinted a long kiss, accompanied by a gentle pressure, on Luiza’s hand.
“Good-by,” he said.
In the doorway, holding back the portière, he again turned towards her.
“Will you believe that a little while ago, as I came upstairs, I asked myself how all this was going to turn out?”
“All this? What? Of course we had to meet again; of course! Why, what did you think?”
“I did not think that you were so good,” he said, after a moment’s hesitation. “Good-by,” he added, “until to-morrow.”