He smiled back, happy in her apparent
pleasure; and his good-nature was so insistent that she was impelled to
reward it with a remark.
She thought, she said, that Gheta was particularly lovely this
afternoon. He agreed eagerly; and Lavinia wondered whether she had been
clumsy. She simply couldn't imagine marrying Cesare Orsi, but she knew
that such a match for Gheta was freely discussed, and she hoped that
her sister would not make difficulties. She wouldn't have dresses so
fussy as Gheta's--in figure, anyhow, she was perhaps her sister's
superior--fine materials, simply cut, with a ruffle at the throat and
hem, a satin wrap pointed at the back, with a soft tassel....
Orsi was talking to Gheta, and she was answering him with a brevity
that had cast a shade of annoyance over the Marchese Sanviano's large
features. Lavinia agreed with her father that Gheta was a fool. She
must be thirty, the younger suddenly realized. Bembo was growing
hysterical from the tea and his own shrill anecdotes. He resembled a
grotesque performing bird with a large beak. Lavinia's mind returned to
the silent dark man who had passed in a cab. She wished, now, that she
had been sitting at the front of the window--the object of his
unsparing intense gaze. She realized that he was extremely handsome,
and contrasted his erect slim carriage with Orsi's thick slouched
shoulders. The latter interrupted her look, misinterpreted it, and said
something about candy from Giacosa's.
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