“The abundant love has remained: the San Stefanos have always loved much.”

He went on jesting, called attention to the wantonness of the design and risked an allusion.

She pretended not to hear. She looked at the tapestries. In the intervals between the panels golden peacocks drank from golden fountains and cupids played with doves.

“I am so fond of you!” he whispered in her ear, putting his arm round her waist. “Angel! Angel!”

She pushed him away:

“Prince....”

“Call me Gilio!”

“Why can’t we be just good friends?”

“Because I want something more than friendship.”

She now released herself entirely: