Lady Hedwig awaits you as usual." He rose courteously, leaning on his stick, and De Pretis bowed himself out.
He expected that the contessina would immediately begin talking of Nino, but he was mistaken; she never once referred to the opera or the singer, and except that she looked pale and transparent, and sang with a trifle less interest in her music than usual, there was nothing noticeable in her manner.

Indeed, she had every reason to be silent.
Early that morning Nino received by messenger a pretty little note, written in execrable Italian, begging him to come and breakfast with the baroness at twelve, as she much desired to speak with him after his stupendous triumph of the previous night.
Nino is a very good boy, but he is mortal, and after the excitement of the evening he thought nothing could be pleasanter than to spend a few hours in that scented boudoir, among the palms and the beautiful objects and the perfumes, talking with a woman who professed herself ready to help him in his love affair.

We have no perfumes or cushions or pretty things at number twenty-seven Santa Catarina dei Funari, though everything is very bright and neat and most proper, and the cat is kept in the kitchen, for the most part.

So it is no wonder that he should have preferred to spend the morning with the baroness.
She was half lying, half sitting, in a deep arm-chair, when Nino entered; and she was reading a book.

When she saw him she dropped the volume on her knee, and looked up at him from under her lids, without speaking.