Corona was ill at ease.

In the first few moments of being alone with Giovanni the pleasure she felt outweighed all other thoughts.

But as the minutes lengthened to a quarter of an hour, then to half an hour, she grew nervous, and her answers came more and more shortly.

She said to herself that she should never have given him the cotillon, and she wondered how the remainder of the time would pass.

The realisation of what had occurred came upon her, and the hot blood rose to her face and ebbed away again, and rose once more.