“You will come with me some day,” I added, “to dine at her country house.”
“You need not look for that.”
“Why not?”
“Because she is a madwoman. She talked to me in a way that would have offended me if I did not know that she fancied she was honouring me by laying aside her rank.”
We rose from table, and after I had dismissed my man we sat on the balcony to wait for Don Diego and to enjoy the delicious evening breezes.
As we sat near to each other in the twilight, so favourable to lovers’ vows, I looked into Donna Ignazia’s eyes, and saw there that my hour had come. I clasped her to me with one arm, I clung with my lips to hers, and by the way she trembled I guessed the flame which consumed her.
“Will you go and see the duchess?”
“No, if you will promise me not to go to confession next Sunday.”
“But what will he say if I do not go?”
“Nothing at all, if he understands his business. But let us talk it over a little.”