"You to-morrow," she replied, carrying on the jest. Then she said, seriously, "Come about seven, as we've got to go out first. Ah!" she continued, following them to the door, "that man has been back. He offers 300 _lire_ or a new fur. But Madame is firm in demanding her own; she says he'll have to be summoned." "Well, we'll have him summoned," said Antonio. "But was the old fur a good one?" "Why, it cost 900 _lire_!" "We'll see about it. _Au revoir!_" "Good-bye. Are you coming to Albano, Regina?" "If Madame invites us," said Antonio, and they went out. Regina has said neither yes nor no. They walked as far as Piazza dell' Indipendenza in silence. Then Regina raised her head and asked-- "What was that about a fur?" "Oh, good Lord! don't speak of it! For a whole month I've heard of nothing else. She sent a skin to the furrier to be repaired, and it seems to have got changed or something----" "Are you going to Albano?" "If she invites us--some Sunday." "I'm not going," said Regina, stoutly. "Why not?" "Because--it's too hot," she said, dropping her voice. "It won't be hot there. She has taken a villa on the edge of the lake. Such roses on the terrace! When they drop they fall straight into the water." Regina knew all about it, for he had chosen the villa himself, and had described it to his wife a few days ago. They walked on without speaking further. The street lamps burned yellow and dismal in the rosy twilight, and their dull flame increased Regina's melancholy. Her foolish project of spying upon Antonio in the night recurred to her. She saw herself a flitting shadow under that yellow and dismal light, shadowed herself by some night prowler in search of adventure. But suddenly she raised her head proudly, saying to herself-- "No, never again! This is the last time I shall go to that house; and neither shall he go there again. It is time to bring it all to an end!" When she had reached her room, she took off her silk jacket and flung it on the bed. "Well! it _is_ hot! What a summer we are going to have! Oh, how horrid Rome is in the summer! And _they_ are already going away. Quite right, the poor delicate things! But we--yes, gnawing our bones--if they're left to us----" "What's that you're muttering?" asked Antonio, but went on, without waiting for an answer, "Hasn't Caterina come in yet?" Regina undressed, flinging down her things and inveighing against the rich, great people, who abandon Rome at its first heat. Antonio stood looking out of the window. An angry thought flashed through her mind, the worst of the perverse thoughts which had destroyed her peace. "He's no longer displeased when I am cross. He's afraid of provoking me to a burst of rage. He guesses that I _know_, and believes that I'll bear it--up to a certain point." "Shut the window!" she said, irritated. He shut the window, patiently. "I'm going for the _Avanti_,"[9] he said, moving away; "make haste! it's half-past seven." [9] An evening paper.