“Forgive me for importuning you. Galimberti is very much in love. Perhaps it is for the sake of going to you that he gets there so late; perhaps when he misses his lessons there altogether, it is because he stays so long with you. You who are so good, think what it means for him.”
“It’s nothing to do with me; if it is his destiny, it is fatal.”
“But does your father approve of these long interviews?”
“My father! He doesn’t care a pin for me, he is a heartless man.”
“Don’t say that, Lucia.”
“A heartless man! If my health is bad, he doesn’t care. He laughs at my piety.... Do you know how he describes me, when he speaks of me at all? 'That interesting poseuse, my daughter.’ You can’t get over that; it sums up my father.” Caterina made no reply. “That Galimberti will end by becoming a nuisance. Were he not so unhappy, I would send him about his business.”
“Sai, Lucia, a girl ought not to receive young men alone ... it is not nice ... it is playing with fire.”
“Nè fiamma d’esto incendio non m’assale,” she quoted.
They had arrived at the Café de l’Europe, where the wind was blowing furiously. Caterina, turning to protect herself against it, saw the cab in which Galimberti sat with the hood drawn up to hide him, following them step by step.
“Dio mio! now he is following us ... Galimberti.... What will people think...? Lucia, what shall we do?”