“Really I can’t think of anything important to listen to from you,” she murmured, turning back for a step or two.
“However, it is so, Donna Maria. It is a question of your good which is immensely dear to me.”
“Why is it dear to you? How do I concern you?”
“Why, I esteem you deeply; I love you.”
“Still I don’t love you, neither do I esteem you,” she replied icily.
“Why don’t you esteem me?”
“Because you are a dissembler, Provana.”
“Dissembling is often necessary and most useful in life. It is often an act of prudence and benevolence.”
“That is the invention of liars.”
They walked together, side by side, along one of the portici, drawing further away towards the back of the edifice. Gianni Provana watched her half curiously and half anxiously; she was distracted, gazing intently on an unknown point, trailing her parasol.