'Yes,' answered Andrea, 'to inquire after her—she is ill, you know.'
'Yes, I know—I have just come from there. She is better.'
'Does she receive?'
'Me—no. But she may perhaps receive you.' And Grimiti laughed maliciously through the smoke of his cigarette.
'I don't understand,' Andrea answered coldly.
'Bah!' said the duke. 'Report says you are high in favour. I heard it last night at the Pallavicinis', from a lady, a great friend of yours—give you my word!'
Andrea turned on his heel with a gesture of impatience.
'Bonne chance!' cried the duke.
Andrea entered the portico. In reality he was delighted and flattered that such a report should be circulated already. Grimiti's words had suddenly revived his courage like a draught of some cordial. As he mounted the steps, his hopes rose high. He waited for a moment at the door to allow his excitement to calm down a little. Then he rang.
The servant recognised him and said at once: 'If the Signor Conte will have the kindness to wait a moment I will go and inform Mademoiselle.'