"You jest too much about your feelings for any woman to take them seriously," she said to the latter, one evening, when they were listening to a concert of mandolines and guitars.
"You're right," he answered, turning pale. "But once when I never jested, I had equally bad luck. You refused to marry me."
He spoke sadly. That she had refused to marry him still further embittered for him her present indifference. How could a woman have refused a rich and handsome youth, for a man who had passed forty, and was effete in mind and body? How had Cesare Dias so completely taken possession of this woman's heart? The passion of Anna for Cesare, and that of Caracciolo for Anna, were much talked of in Sorrento society, and the general opinion was that Dias must be a tremendous wizard, that he possessed to a supreme degree the art of attracting men and winning women, and that everybody was right to love and worship him. As for Caracciolo, his was the story of a failure.
Caracciolo himself, moved by I know not what instinct of loyalty, of vanity, or of subtle calculation, accepted and even exaggerated his role of an unsuccessful lover. Wherever he went, at the theatre, at parties, he showed plainly that he was waiting for Anna, and was nervous and restless until she came. His face changed when she entered, bowed to him, gave him her hand; and when she left he followed immediately. Perhaps he was glad that all this should be noticed. He knew he could never move her by appearing cold and sceptical; that was Cesare's pose, and in it Luigi could not hope to rival him. Perhaps her sympathies would be stirred if she saw him ardent and sorrowful.
In the autumn he perceived that Anna was troubled by some new grief. Her joy at the return of Cesare had given place to a strange agitation. She was pale and silent, with dark circles under her eyes. And he realised that whatever faint liking she had had for himself had been blotted out by a sorrow whose causes were unknown to him.
One day he said to her, "Something is troubling you?"
"Yes," she answered frankly.
"Will you tell me what it is?"
"No; I don't wish to," she said, with the same frankness.