“What are you going to do? Are you going to the Exhibition?”
“No; it bores me.”
“You will be more bored, all alone here. Alberto won’t come home till late; Andrea and I are sure to be late. Come!”
“I won’t go; the Exhibition bores me. I can never be with you for a moment there.”
“We can’t help that. I feel it too, but it’s not my fault.”
“And to-day, if I went, I should have to pace up and down those huge rooms alone.”
“Andrea might stay with you,” urged Caterina, timidly, ever conscious of their latent antipathy.
“We should quarrel.”
“Still?” said the other, pained and surprised.
“That’s how it is; we cannot agree.”