"So you are glad you came here, Donna Beatrice," he said.
"Very glad," she answered. "It is something I have never seen before—something I shall never forget, as long as I live."
"Nor I."
"Have you a good memory?"
"For some things, not for others."
"For what, for instance?"
"For those I love—-"
"And a bad memory for those whom you have loved," suggested Beatrice with a smile.
"Have you any reason for saying that?" asked San Miniato gravely. "You know too little of me and my life to judge of either. I have not loved many, and I have remembered them well."
"How many? A dozen, more or less? Or twenty? Or a hundred?"