“Have you been out to-day? It is a lovely morning.”
“And I’m so cold. I am always cold when the weather is warm, and vice versâ.”
“Strange creature!”
“Eh?”
“I beg your pardon.”
“And about yourself, Galimberti. Have you been to the College to-day to give your lesson?”
“Yes, I went there, although I felt so sad, and so disinclined to teach.”
“Very sad—and why?” But the tone was indifferent.
He stroked his forehead with his ungloved hand. She sat with her back to the window, but the light shone straight on his face, which looked yellow and faded. Occasionally there appeared to be a squint in his eyes.
“Yesterday ...” he began, “yesterday, you did not deign to write to me.”