Remembering things that are really no concern of yours; and thinking they concern you because you remember them—doubtless quite inaccurately. I know. It's a way of the Badoer family—and of the Loredani, too, for that matter. When you were a child there was confiture with the bread—and you threw away the crust; and they let you do it, and now you can't find your vocation.
[She taps her foot impatiently.]
Well—well—will you come?
[Atalanta is still silent, her face hard with resolution.]
I might mention it to the Sister Sacristan. She'd fetch you.
[Atalanta gives her a look of scornful disgust.]
It's as well you didn't say that in so many words, Sister.
[Atalanta looks straight before her, a statue of silence.]
Perhaps there is some one you would prefer to have me call, before the Sister Sacristan comes to fetch you? Sister Rosalba?
[No response.]