Who then? Who then?
How much time passed, while she sat there, in a convulsion of tears and sobs, prey to all the anguish of jealousy?
The day broke; a greenish, livid light entered the room.
The handle of the door turned. Cesare came in. He was very pale, with dull, weary eyes. He had a cigarette in his mouth; his lips were blue. The collar of his overcoat was turned up; his hands were in his pockets. He looked at his wife indifferently, coldly, as if he did not recognise her.
She rose. Her face was ashen. Her capacity for feeling was exhausted.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
He threw away his cigarette, and took off his hat. How old and used up he looked, with his hair in disorder, his cheeks sunken from lack of sleep.
"I was waiting for you," she said.
"All night?"
"All night."