They shook hands. She stayed by the window a little while after he had gone.
VII
One day during Christmas week Gram went into a trattoria. Heggen and Jenny were sitting at a table, but they did not see him. As he was taking off his overcoat, he heard Heggen say:
“I don’t like that man.”
“No; he is disgusting,” said Jenny, sighing.
“It is not good for her either—with this sirocco blowing. She will be a rag tomorrow. I suppose she does not work at all—only walks about with that fellow?”
“Work, no! But I can do nothing. She walks from here to Viterbo with him in those thin slippers of hers, in spite of the cold and the sirocco—only because the man can tell her about Hans Hermann.”
Gram greeted them as he passed. They made a movement as if inviting him to sit at their table, but he pretended not to see, and sat down farther up the room with his back to them. He understood that they were speaking about Francesca.