"Madame is a stranger, then," observed Donna Tullia with an agreeable smile.
She looked into her neighbour's face and for the first time realised that she was a striking person.
"Quite," replied the latter, briefly, and as though not wishing to press the conversation.
"I fancied so," said Donna Tullia, "though on seeing you in these seats, among us Romans—"
"I received a card through the kindness of a friend."
There was a short pause, during which Donna Tullia concluded that the friend must have been Orsino. But the next remark threw her off the scent.
"It was his wife's ticket, I believe," said Maria Consuelo. "She could not come. I am here on false pretences." She smiled carelessly.
Donna Tullia lost herself in speculation, but failed to solve the problem.
"You have chosen a most favourable moment for your first visit to Rome," she remarked at last.
"Yes. I am always fortunate. I believe I have seen everything worth seeing ever since I was a little girl."