The Spaniard regarded
Gheta Sanviano so fixedly that after a moment she turned, in a species
of constraint, to Anna. The latter spoke with her customary facility
and the man responded gravely.
They stood a little aside from Lavinia; she only partly heard their
remarks, but she saw that Abrego y Mochales' attention never strayed
from her sister. Vicariously it made her giddy. The man absolutely
summed up all that Lavinia had dreamed of a romantic and masterful
personage. She felt convinced that he had destroyed her life's
happiness--no other man could ever appeal to her now; none other could
satisfy the tumult he had aroused in her. This, she told herself,
desperately miserable, was love.
Gheta spoke of her, for the three turned to regard her. She met their
scrutiny with a doubtful half smile, which vanished as Anna Mantegazza
made a light comment upon her hair being so newly up. Lavinia detested
the latter with a sudden and absurd intensity. She saw Anna, with a
veiled glance at Gheta, make an apology and leave to join an eddy of
familiars that had formed in the human stream sweeping by. Mochales
stood very close to her sister, speaking seriously, while Gheta
nervously fingered the short veil hanging from her gay straw hat.
A familiar kindly voice sounded suddenly in Lavinia's ears, and Cesare
Orsi joined her. He was about to move forward toward Gheta; but, before
he could attract her attention, she disappeared in the crowd with the
Spaniard.
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