“Well, then, what are you going to do?”
“Since it is raining, later on I shall get rid of a bothering duty. I am going to the Sacro Cuore at Trinità dei Monti, to visit Guiglia Strozzi’s daughter, who is ill. Will you come?”
“No, thank you.”
“Then what are you going to do?”
“Nothing; the usual—I shall bore myself. Au revoir, Carolina.”
“Au revoir. What a pity! I had a beautiful dress.”
“So had I. It doesn’t matter. Au revoir.”
The telephone was rung off.
Maria remained standing in the middle of the study, looking around so uncertainly and fleetingly that it seemed as if she was almost seeking help. Her eyes directed themselves to the chair which Emilio used behind the writing-table, and she almost seemed to be looking for some one. But suddenly she silently recrossed all the rooms she had first crossed, and re-entered her room, where Chiara was replacing all the things in the cupboard.
“Would you like to take off your dress, Excellency?” she asked.