"Oh, he exaggerates, as usual. To read Loti, you'd suppose the burial in the Ganges a poem. On the contrary, it's a great——"
"——a great saleté," said Marianna, sitting near Gabrie, and whispering so as not to be overheard by Madame, who often reproved her for her coarse language.
Gabrie, who had understood from her Sabbioneta friend that great ladies never said ugly words, stared at Marianna, then dropped her eyes and remained quiet in her corner.
"Whatever Loti says is false," continued the German. "I once heard Madame Ciansahma, a Japanese authoress, say that when she wanted a laugh she read a book of Loti's."
"And don't we laugh when Madame Ciansahma takes us off, and tries to look like an European?" asked the lady in blue.
"How can she know what Madame Ciansahma looks like?" whispered Marianna, leaning forward.
Regina also leaned forward and indicated the blue lady.
"She's blind, isn't she?"
"Stone blind. For that matter," added Marianna, "the blind sometimes see more than those with eyes."
Gabrie, mute and stiff, wedged in between the two young ladies, looked and listened. Every one was talking except herself—her small, colourless self in her little black frock. The blind lady, moving and talking as if she could see perfectly, became the special object of her attention.