The Making of a Saint

by W. Somerset Maugham

I laughed a little as I thought of my tears and cries when Giulia left me. It was not a matter worth troubling about; all I should have said to myself was that I was a fool not to abandon her before she abandoned me. Poor Giulia! I quite frightened her in the vehemence of my rage.

The following evening I would not let Matteo go to bed.

'You must keep me company,' I said, 'I am going out at one.'

'Very well,' he said, 'if you will tell me where you're going.'

'Ah, no, that is a secret; but I am willing to drink her health with you.'

'Without a name?'

'Yes!'

'To the nameless one, then; and good luck!'

Then, after a little conversation, he said,—

'I am glad you have suffered no more from Giulia dall' Aste. I was afraid—'