'You say this so indifferently--'
'I always control my feelings, whether I love or hate. The sentiment that betrays itself, becomes the prey of the people.'
'But how can one believe in it, if one cannot see it?'
'Then what is faith?' said the woman laughing. 'The one who loves must feel, and he who cannot guess the woman's love is not worthy of it.'
Having said this, she very quickly, and before Brühl could realise it, disappeared.
He was standing thoughtfully, when a rather remarkable clown--for he had diamond buttons--appeared. He seemed to be looking for someone and seeing only the Venetian, stopped, gazing at him attentively. He bent down, wishing to look under the mask, but Brühl pressed it over his face with his hand.
'Cavaliero nero!' said the clown, what did the queen say to you? Do you know her?'
'Sono un forestiere--Addio,' hissed Brühl and made off, but the clown followed him. Presently he met the bandit to whom the clown whispered:
'Who is he?'
'Brühl.'