“It’s all so far off, Roberto,” she said, looking at him languidly but fixedly, with parted lips and sad eyes.
“Well, get it over; it rests with you....”
“You will never forget me, Roberto, my own Roberto?”
“Forget you, Giovanna, transcendent, fascinating as you are? Do you realise the extent of my sacrifice? I leave you to Gabrielli. Do you realise what I lose?”
“You do not lose all,” murmured Giovanna, with a catch in her breath. He bent down and imprinted a long kiss on her wrist. Her eyelids drooped, but she did not withdraw it; she was ready to fall into his arms, notwithstanding the nearness of the ball-room. The young officer, whose prudence was more than equal to his love, raised his head.
“It would be rash to loiter here,” he said; “the old boy might get jealous.”
“Dio mio, what a bore! Basta, for your sake.”
“Why do you not sing to-night?”
“Mamma won’t let me....” And they passed on.