The tall windows looked out on the piazza, and it was raining, or just beginning to rain.

The great inkstand on the table was made to represent a howitzer, and the count looked as though he were ready to fire it point blank at any intruder.

There was an air of disciplined luxury in the room that spoke of a rich old soldier who fed his fancy with tit-bits from a stirring past.

De Pretis felt very uncomfortable, but the nobleman rose to greet him, as he rose to greet everything above the rank of a servant, making himself steady with his stick.

When De Pretis was seated he sat down also.