“On a litter?” said Rowland.
“In one of those machines—a chaise a porteurs—like a woman.”
Rowland received this information in silence; it was equally unbecoming to either relish or deprecate its irony.
“Is Mr. Hudson to join you again? Will he come here?” Christina asked.
“I shall soon begin to expect him.”
“What shall you do when you leave Switzerland?” Christina continued. “Shall you go back to Rome?”
“I rather doubt it. My plans are very uncertain.”
“They depend upon Mr. Hudson, eh?”
“In a great measure.”
“I want you to tell me about him. Is he still in that perverse state of mind that afflicted you so much?”