The hard, sharp compact which annulled one of their best dreams, and destroyed one of their intensest joys, was subscribed without any further observation.
He resumed with a little difficulty.
“Later on, in September, mamma wants me.”
“Where, then?”
“At Spello, you know, at our place, where she passes the autumn.”
“I know. You have gone there every year for some days; last year for ten days.”
“This year I ought to stay some days longer.”
“How many days longer?”
“Two weeks, perhaps two or three.”
As usual, on words which he feared would displease her Marco placed a courteous hesitation. He was never precise. He sought always to render the conversation more vague with a sweet smile.