"One of my usual vulgarities. I'm speaking ill of your husband."
"Then be quiet."
But to soften the severity of this command, she offered him a box of cigarettes.
"Thanks for your charity," he said.
And he began to smoke, looking at one of her slippers of lilac satin embroidered with silver, which escaped from beneath her train. She sat with her elbow on the table, thinking. It was midnight. In a few minutes Caracciolo would be gone; and Cesare couldn't delay much longer about coming home.
Luigi Caracciolo seemed to divine her thoughts.
"After this cigarette, I will leave you. I'm afraid I've given you no great idea of my wit."
"I detest witty men."
"Small harm! I hope you believe, though, that I have a heart."