'You were quite right in what you did. Those things have to finish some
time or other, and it really does not so much matter when.'
'I was afraid I had hurt you,' she said in a low voice.
The scene came to my mind; the dimly-lit room, the delicate form lying
on the couch, cold and indifferent, while I was given over to an agony
of despair. I remembered the glitter of the jewelled ring against the
white hand. I would have no mercy.
'My dear Giulia--you will allow me to call you Giulia?'
She nodded.
'My dear Giulia, I was a little unhappy at first, I acknowledge, but one
gets over those things so quickly--a bottle of wine, and a good sleep:
they are like bleeding to a fever.'
'You were unhappy?'
'Naturally; one is always rather put out when one is dismissed. One
would prefer to have done the breaking oneself.'
'It was a matter of pride?'
'I am afraid I must confess to it.'
'I did not think so at the time.'