They spoke very quietly, seated side by side, without looking at each other.
"Doesn't he strike you as bold?" she asked.
"Who? Caracciolo? For having written that letter?"
"Yes."
"No. People in love are always writing letters. They don't always send them, but they always write them."
"Ah, is that so?"
"He loves you, therefore he writes to you."
"He loves me?" she inquired, trembling.
"Of course."
"Are you sure?"