The place was well known to tolerant and intellectual society.

Lisbeth was there found in perpetual jubilation, clad in a long blouse, somewhat of a _gamine_ in her ways, trenchant too and often bold of speech, but nevertheless capital company, and as yet compromised with nobody but Prada.

Their _liaison_ had begun some four months after his wife had left him, and now Lisbeth was near the time of becoming a mother.

This she in no wise concealed, but displayed such candid tranquillity and happiness that her numerous acquaintances continued to visit her as if there were nothing in question, so facile and free indeed is the life of the great cosmopolitan continental cities.

Under the circumstances which his wife's suit had created, Prada himself was not displeased at the turn which events had taken with regard to Lisbeth, but none the less his incurable wound still bled.
There could be no compensation for the bitterness of Benedetta's disdain, it was she for whom his heart burned, and he dreamt of one day wreaking on her a tragic punishment.
Pierre, knowing nothing of Lisbeth, failed to understand the allusions of Orlando and his son.