'Are you very tired?' he gently asked over her shoulder.
'Not more so than usual,' she responded, turning slightly and putting out her hand to him, without manifesting the least surprise.
He sat down behind her. She spoke to him without looking at him, which she would also have done had he been beside her, for she was looking down into the hall.
'But you seem to come here often,' he urged.
'Yes, often. Even our dislikes become habits; and besides—Silvio is a Minister, and many people think I am an influential woman. At home there is a constant stream of them who want something.'
'One can close one's door.'
'Yes, if one happens to be an ordinary woman, but not if one is the wife of a politician, of a Minister. Don Silvio is always afraid I shall make him lose his popularity.' Her voice was choked with bitterness.
'No doubt you often must endure vulgar acquaintances?' he asked in a sympathetic tone that made her change colour.
'Yes, I am indulgent enough. It is natural to me to be indulgent. But vulgarity is offensive and painful to me.'