Suddenly, however, Regina's eyes sparkled and returned to the world about her.
"Why shouldn't you be Madame's confidential agent?" she said; "her secretary? I remember what I dreamed the first night I saw her at Arduina's—that she was dead and had left us her money!"
"It would be easy enough," said Antonio.
"To get the money?"
"No—the administration of her affairs. True, one would have to flatter and cringe, and take people in, especially as she employs two or three others in addition to the Cavaliere. One would have to intrigue against them all. I don't care for that sort of business."
"Nor I," said Regina, stiffening.
She rose and moved to the window which overlooked the garden. Antonio followed her. The night was warm and voluptuous. The scent of laurel rose ever sweeter and stronger; patches of yellow light were spread over the little garden paths like a carpet. Regina looked down, then raised her eyes towards the darkened blue of the heavens and sighed, stifling the sigh in a yawn.
"After all," said Antonio, pursuing his own line of thought, "are we not happy? What do we lack?"
"Nothing and everything!"