"You see," said he, "Attilio has come back.
And now look up at the third window on the first floor." It was at once rapid and charming.

Pierre saw the curtain slightly drawn aside and Celia's gentle face appear.

Closed, candid lily, she did not smile, she did not move.

Nothing could be read on those pure lips, or in those clear but fathomless eyes of hers.

Yet she was taking Attilio to herself, and giving herself to him without reserve.