A gentleman who passed them in a hired carriage, bowed profoundly to both.
“Galimberti ...” murmured Lucia, in a weary voice.
“Where can he be going at this hour?”
“I don’t know ... to his lesson ... I suppose.”
“Do you know what Cherubina Friscia told me, a few days ago?”
“Have you seen her again?”
“Yes, I went there, because I heard that the Directress was ill. Friscia told me that they were very dissatisfied with Galimberti. He is always late for his lesson now; he either leaves before the hour is up, or misses it altogether.”
“Does he...?” indifferently.
“Besides, he is not so good a teacher as he used to be. He takes no interest in his class, is careless in correcting the compositions, and has become prolix and hazy as an exponent.... In short, a mere ruin.”
“Poor Galimberti...! I told you that he was an unlucky creature. He’ll end badly.”