Just when the hot August day had hung two dusky sapphire lamps in the window of the room, Madame Oriano, who had been lying all the afternoon staring up at the shadows of the birds that flitted across the ceiling, rang the bell and demanded her daughter’s presence. “_Letizia, devi sposarti_,” she said firmly. “Get married, mamma? But I don’t want to be married for a long time.” “_Non ci entra, cara. Devi sposarti. Sarebbe meglio—molto meglio. Sei troppo sfrenata._”[7] [7] “That doesn’t come into it, my dear. You must get married. It would be better—much better. You are too harum-scarum.” “I don’t see why it should be so much better. I’m not so harum-scarum as all that. Besides, you never married at my age. You never married at all if it comes to that.” “_Lo so. Perciò dico che tu devi sposarti._”[8] [8] “I know that. That’s why I say that you must get married.” “Thanks, and who am I to marry?” “Caleb.” “Caleb? Gemini! Caleb? Marry Caleb? But he’s so ugly! And he don’t wash himself too often, what’s more.” “_Bello non é ... ma che importa? La bellezza passa via._” “Yes, I daresay beauty does pass away,” said Letizia indignantly. “But it had passed away from Caleb before ever he was born.” “_Che importa?_” “I daresay it don’t matter to you. But you aren’t being expected to marry him. Besides, you’ve had all the beaux you wanted. But I haven’t, and I won’t be fobbed off with Caleb. I just won’t be, and you may do what you will about it.” “_Basta!_” Madame Oriano exclaimed. “Dissa talk is enough.” “Basta yourself and be damned, mamma,” Letizia retorted. “I won’t marry Caleb. I’d sooner be kept by a handsome gentleman in a big clean cravat. I’d sooner live in a pretty house he’d give me and drive a crimson curricle on the Brighton Road like Cora Delaney.” “It does not import two pennies what you wish, _figlia mia_. You willa marry Caleb.” “But I’m not in love with him, the ugly clown!” “Love!” scoffed her mother. “_L’amore! L’amore!_ Love is mad. I have hadda so many lovers. _Tanti tanti amanti! Adesso, sono felice? No! Ma sono vecchia assai._ Yes, an old woman—_una vecchia miserabile senza amanti, senza gambe—e non si fa l’amore senza gambe, cara, ti giuro—senza danaro, senza niente_.” Sans love, sans legs, sans money, sans everything, the old woman dropped back on her pillows utterly exhausted. A maid came in with candles and pulled the curtains to shut out the dim grey into which the August twilight had by now gradually faded. When the maid was gone, she turned her glittering, sombre eyes upon her daughter. “You willa marry Caleb,” she repeated. “It willa be better so—_molto meglio cosi. Gli amanti non valgono niente._ All who I have been loving, where are dey now? _Dove sono? Sono andati via._ Alla gone away. Alla gone. You willa marry Caleb.” Letizia burst into loud sobs. “But I don’t want to marry, mamma.”