But in such weather as this she could not do such a thing without exciting remark.

It was a week-day, and there were no masses to hear, as an excuse, by the time she was dressed.
She watched herself in the glass, while her maid was doing her hair.

The dull light of the rainy morning made her own face look grey and sallow.
She had not slept very well, and her eyes were heavy, she thought.

The glaring whiteness of the thing she had thrown over her shoulders while her hair was being brushed made her look worse.

She had little vanity about her appearance, as a rule, but on that particular day she would have been glad to look her best.
Not that she at all believed that Gianluca was dying for her; but he was certainly in love with her.