rag;
and as luck would have it, Giovanni and Del Ferice sat together behind
them. Half-a-dozen other men found seats somewhere, and among them were
the melancholy Spicca, who was a famous duellist, and a certain
Casalverde, a man of rather doubtful reputation. The others were members
of what Donna Tullia called her "corps de ballet." In those days Donna
Tullia's conduct was criticised, and she was thought to be emancipated,
as the phrase went. Old people opened their eyes at the spectacle of the
gay young widow going off into the Campagna to picnic with a party of
men; but if any intimate enemy had ventured to observe to her that she
was giving occasion for gossip, she would have raised her eyebrows,
explaining that they were all just like her brothers, and that Giovanni
was indeed a sort of cousin. She would perhaps have condescended to say
that she would not have done such a thing in Paris, but that in dear old
Rome one was in the bosom of one's family, and might do anything. At
present she sat chatting with Valdarno, a tall and fair young man, with a
weak mouth and a good-natured disposition; she had secured Giovanni, and
though he sat sullenly smoking behind her, his presence gave her
satisfaction. Del Ferice's smooth face wore an expression of ineffable
calm, and his watery blue eyes gazed languidly on the broad stretch of
brown grass which bordered the highroad.

For some time the drag bowled along, and Giovanni was left to his own
reflections, which were not of a very pleasing kind. The other men talked
of the chances of luck with the hounds; and Spicca, who had been a great
deal in England, occasionally put in a remark not very complimentary to
the Roman hunt. Del Ferice listened in silence, and Giovanni did not
listen at all, but buttoned his overcoat to the throat, half closed his
eyes, and smoked one cigarette after another, leaning back in his seat.
Suddenly Donna Tullia's laugh was heard as she turned half round to look
at Valdarno.

"Do you really think so?" she cried. "How soon? What a dance we will lead
them then!"

Del Fence pricked his ears in the direction of her voice, like a terrier
that suspects the presence of a rat. Valdarno's answer was inaudible, but
Donna Tullia ceased laughing immediately.

"They are talking politics," said Del Ferice in a low voice, leaning
towards Giovanni as he spoke. The latter shrugged his shoulders and went
on smoking. He did not care to be drawn into a conversation