"Ah, you're a bad love—bad!"
"Don't say that. Don't look like that. Go away, Laura."
And fondly, he put his arm round her waist and led her to the door.
She moved reluctantly, leaning her head upon his shoulder, looking up at him tenderly.
At the door they kissed again.
"Good-bye, love," said Laura.
"Good-bye, love," said Cesare.
The girl went away.
Cesare came back, looking exhausted, deathlike. He lit a cigarette.
Anna, holding her breath, crossed the vestibule, the smoking-room, the drawing-room, and at last reached her own room, and shut her door behind her. She had run swiftly, instinctively, with the instinct that guides a wounded animal. Her maid came and knocked. She called to her that she did not need her. Then some one else knocked.