"Do you like that woman?"
"She is one of the beauties of Rome," he said evasively.
"No, but do you like her?" Nina could not herself have told why she was so insistent.
"She is an old friend of mine," he said lightly; then changed the subject. "Do you follow the hounds, Miss Randolph?"
"At home, yes." But she came back to the former topic. "Does she ride very well, the Contessa Potensi?"
"Wonderfully." This time he answered her easily. "But I am sure you ride well, too. Any one who dances as you do, must also be a horsewoman."
There was something in Giovanni's manner that excited suspicion, but she did not know of what. She half wondered if there had been a love affair between him and the Contessa. Maybe he had wanted to marry her and she had accepted Potensi instead. She wondered if Giovanni still cared; and for a while her sympathy was quite aroused.
The curtain went up and every one stopped talking. At the beginning of the entr'acte Giovanni left the box, and Count Tornik took his chair. He was a strange man, but Nina was beginning to like him. Notwithstanding his brusque indifference, he had a charm that he could exert when he chose. Giovanni's speeches were no more flattering than Tornik's lapses from boredom.
As a matter of fact, in spite of his assumed bad manners, the social instinct was so strong in him that, just as a vulgar person shows his origin in every unguarded moment or unexpected situation, Tornik's good breeding was constantly revealed. And in appearance, he was an attractive contrast to the Italians, tall, broad-shouldered, very blond, and high cheekboned; he might have been taken for an Englishman.
Presently her Majesty, the Dowager Queen, appeared in the royal box, and every one in the audience arose.