“The worse for you!”
“You are irritated, Signor Lieti?” she said, smiling.
“No! I assure you I am not. Mine was a purely physical discomfort, I am not troubled by any moral qualms. I don’t believe in their existence. My wife....”
“Are you a materialist?”
“Signora Lucia, you will make me lose my temper,” he exclaimed, half in anger, half in jest. “You won’t let me speak.”
“I am listening to you.”
“Caterina wishes you to dine with us next Sunday. Her little cousin Giuditta is coming from school for the day. You two could drive her back in the evening.”
“I don’t know ...” she said, hesitatingly; “I don’t know whether I can....”
“I entreat you to, in Caterina’s name. She sent me here on purpose. Come, we have a capital cook. You won’t get a bad dinner.”
She shrugged her shoulders, and sat pondering as if she were gazing into futurity.