She received me kindly and modestly, and stopped listening to the music to talk to me.
When a woman is pretty, one recognizes her charms instantaneously; if one has to examine her closely, her beauty is doubtful. Leonilda was strikingly beautiful. I smiled and looked at the duke, who had told me that he loved her like a daughter, and that he only kept her for form’s sake. He understood the glance, and said,—
“You may believe me.”
“It’s credible,” I replied.
Leonilda no doubt understood what we meant, and said, with a shy smile,—
“Whatever is possible is credible.”
“Quite so,” said I, “but one may believe, or not believe, according to the various degrees of possibility.”
“I think it’s easier to believe than to disbelieve. You came to Naples yesterday; that’s true and yet incredible.”
“Why incredible?”
“Would any man suppose that a stranger would come to Naples at a time when the inhabitants are wishing themselves away?”