'Certainly not. But still--'
'That's all right; because, of course, you know it's notorious that she
has had the most disgraceful amours. And she hasn't even kept them to
her own class; all sorts of people have enjoyed her favours.'
'She does not look very much like a Messalina,' I said, sneering a
little.
'Honestly, Filippo, I do think she is really very little better than a
harlot.'
'You are extremely charitable,' I said. 'But don't you think you are
somewhat prejudiced by the fact that you yourself did not find her one.
Besides, her character makes no particular difference to me; I really
care nothing if she's good or bad; she is agreeable, and that is all I
care about. She is not going to be my wife.'
'She may make you very unhappy; you won't be the first.'
'What a fool you are!' I said, a little angrily. 'You seem to think that
because I go and see a woman I must be dying of love for her. You are
absurd.'
I left him, and soon found myself at the Palazzo Aste, where Donna
Giulia was waiting for me. I had been to see her nearly every day since
my arrival in Forli, for I really liked her. Naturally, I was not in
love with her as Matteo suggested, and I had no intention of entering
into that miserable state. I had found her charmingly simple, very
different from the monster of dissipation she was supposed to be. She
must have been three or four-and-twenty, but in all her ways she was
quite girlish, merry and thoughtless, full of laughter at one moment,
and then some trifling thing would happen to discompose her and she
would be brought to the verge of tears; but a word or caress, even a
compliment, would make her forget the unhappiness which had appeared so
terrible, and in an instant she would be wreathed in smiles. She seemed
so delightfully fragile, so delicate, so weak, that one felt it
necessary to be very gentle with her. I could not imagine how anyone
could use a hard word to her face.
Her eyes lit up as she saw me.
'How long you've been,' she said. 'I thought you were never coming.'
She always seemed so glad so see you that you thought she must have been
anxiously awaiting you, and that you were the very person of all others
that she wished to have with her. Of course, I knew it was an
affectation, but it was a very charming one.
'Come and sit by me here,' she said, making room for me on a couch; then
when I had sat down, she nestled close up to me in her pretty childish
way, as if seeking protection. 'Now, tell me all you've been doing.'
'I've been talking to Matteo,' I said.
'What about?'
'You.'
'Tell me what he said.'
'Nothing to your credit, my dear,' I said, laughing.
'Poor Matteo,' she answered. 'He's such a clumsy, lumbering creature,
one can see he's spent half his life in camps.'
'And I? I have spent the same life as Matteo. Am I a clumsy, lumbering
creature?'
'Oh, no,' she answered, 'you are quite different.' She put the
pleasantest compliments in the look of her eyes.
'Matteo told me all sorts of scandal about you.' She blushed a little.
'Did you believe it?'
'I said I did not much care if it were true or not.'
'But do you believe it?' she asked, insisting.
'If you'll tell me it is not true, I will believe absolutely what you
say.'
The little anxious look on her face gave way to a bright smile.
'Of course, it is not true.'
'How beautiful you are when you smile,' I remarked irrelevantly. 'You
should always smile.'
'I always do on you,' she answered. She opened her mouth, as if about to
speak, held back, as if unable to make up her mind, then said, 'Did
Matteo tell you he made love to me once, and was very angry because I
would not pick up the handkerchief which he had condescended to throw.'
'He mentioned it.'
'Since then, I am afraid he has not had very much good to say of me.'
I had thought at the time that Matteo was a little bitter in his account
of Donna Giulia, and I felt more inclined to believe her version of the
story than his.
'He has been beseeching me not to fall in love with you,' I said.
She laughed.
'Claudia Piacentini has been telling everyone that it is too late, and
she is horribly jealous.'
'Has she? Matteo also seemed certain I was in love with you.'
'And are you?' she asked suddenly.
'No!' I replied with great promptness.
'_Brutta bestia!_' she said, throwing herself to the end of the couch,
and beginning to pout.
'I am very sorry,' I said, laughing, 'but I cannot help it.'
'I think it is horrid of you,' she remarked.
'You have so many adorers,' I said in expostulation.
'Yes, but I want more,' she smiled.
'But what good can it do you to have all these people in love with you?'
'I don't know,' she said, 'it is a pleasant sensation.'
'What a child you are!' I answered, laughing.
She bent forward seriously.
'But are you not at all in love with me?'
I shook my head. She came close up to me, so that her hair brushed
lightly against my cheek; it sent a shiver through me. I looked at her
tiny ear; it was beautifully shaped, transparent as a pink shell.
Unconsciously, quite without intention, I kissed it. She pretended to
take no notice, and I was full of confusion. I felt myself blushing
furiously.
'Are you quite sure?' she said gravely.