"No! no! no!" she sobbed, throwing herself on the pillow, "I will not bear it! I'll say to him, 'Do you see what I'm becoming? Do you see what you're making me? To-day a soiling of the face, to-morrow soiling of the soul! I will go away--I will go away--away! I will go back home. You are nothing to me!' Yes, I will tell him the moment he comes in!" When he came in he found her seated quietly at the table, busy with the list of purchases for the following day. It was late, the lamps were lit, the table was laid, the servant was preparing supper. The whole of the little dwelling was pervaded by the contemptible yet merry hissing of the frying-pan and the smell of fried artichokes. From the window, open towards the garden, penetrated the contrasting fragrance of laurels and of grass. _lire. cent._ Milk 0.20 Bread 0.20 Wine 1.10 Meat 1.00 Flour 0.50 Eggs 0.50 Salad 0.05 Butter 0.60 Asparagus 0.50 ---- L. 4.65 Antonio came over to the table, bent down, and looked at the paper on which Regina was writing. "I was here at six, and couldn't find you," he said. "I was out." "Listen. The Princess sent a note to the office asking me to go to her at half-past six; so I went." "What did she want?" "Well--she's beginning to be a nuisance, you know--she wants me to keep an eye on the man who speculates for her on the Stock Exchange." Regina looked up and saw that Antonio's face was pale and damp. "On the Stock Exchange? What does that mean?" "What it means? I'll explain some time. But--well, really, that woman is becoming a plague!" "But if she pays you?" said Regina; "and are you good at speculating?" "I only wish I had the opportunity!" he exclaimed, tossing his hat to the sofa; "I wish I had a little of Madame's superfluous money! But this isn't a case of speculating. I'm to study the state of the money-market and audit the operations carried out by Cavaliere R---- on the Princess's account; take note of the details of daily transactions; get information from the brokers; in short, exercise rigorous control over all the fellow does." "But," insisted Regina, "she'll pay you well, won't she?" "Beg pardon?" he said, mimicking the Princess. "How much will she pay you?" shouted Regina. "A hundred _lire_ or so. She's a skinflint, you know." "Supper's on the table, Signora," announced the servant with her accustomed elegant decorum. During the meal Antonio expounded the operations on 'Change, and other financial matters, talking with a certain enthusiasm. She appeared interested in what he told her; yet while she listened her eyes shone with the vague light of a thought very far away from what Antonio was saying. That thought was straying in a dark and empty distance; like a blind man feeling his way in a strange place, it sought and sought something to be a point of rest, a support, or at least a sign.