“I know it.”
Maria sighed.
“Later on, with time,” concluded Donna Flaminia, with her sense of justice and equilibrium.
“One wants such patience, immense patience,” rejoined Maria Guasco dreamily.
The company began to break up. Flaminia and Mario Colonna had to go to the Japanese Legation. Francesco Serlupi, silently occupied with his flight, followed them, almost holding on to their shoulders, as if to hide himself. When the Senator Fabio Guasco took his leave as well, accustomed to early hours, he kissed his niece’s hand, bowing with much gallantry as he begged her not to forget her old uncle in her invitations. Emilio Guasco, who had not said a single word since dinner, announced that he was going to accompany him. So only Gianni Provana remained, immovable, always tranquil, with his monocle fixed in its orbit. Quietly and tactfully Maria made her way to her husband, and asked him in a low voice—
“Are you going out?”
“Yes,” he replied quietly.
“Why are you going?”
“To accompany uncle.”
“Are you returning soon?”