"I believe it."
"All the better. One day or another you will remember what I have said to you this evening, and understand it."
"Perhaps," she said, vaguely.
"You had a very happy inspiration, to dress in lilac. It's such a tender colour. That's the tint one sees in the sunsets at Venice. Have you ever been at Venice?"
"Never."
"That's a pity. It's a place full of soft tears. One can make a provision of them there, to last a life-time. Trifling loves become deep at Venice, and deep loves become indestructible. Good-night."
"Good-night."
She gave him her hand, like a white flower issuing from the satin of her sleeve. He touched it lightly with his lips, and went away.
Not for a moment during her conversation with Luigi Caracciolo had her husband been absent from Anna's mind. And all that the young man said, which constantly implied if it did not directly mention love, had but intensified her one eternal thought.