iolence did not extend beyond words and
black looks, and he was not miserly about a few francs for dress, or a
dinner at the Falcone two or three times a year. But in the matter of
domestic peace his conduct left much to be desired. He was a sober man,
but his hours were irregular, for he attended the meetings of a certain
club which Maria Luisa held in abhorrence, and brought back opinions
which made her cross herself with her fat fingers, shuddering at the
things he said. As for Gianbattista Bordogni, who lived with them, and
consequently received most of his wages in the shape of board and
lodging, he loved Lucia Pandolfi, his master's daughter, and though he
shared Marzio's opinions, he held his tongue in the house. He understood
how necessary to him the mother's sympathy must be, and, with subtle
intelligence, he knew how to create a contrast between himself and his
master by being reticent at the right moment.

Lucia opened the door in answer to the bell her father had rung, and
stood aside in the narrow way to let members of the household pass by,
one by one. Lucia was seventeen years old, and probably resembled her
mother as the latter had looked at the same age. She was slight, and
tall, and dark, with a quantity of glossy black hair coiled behind her
head. Her black eyes had not yet acquired that sleepy look which
advancing life and stoutness had put into her mother's, as a sort of
sign of the difficulty of quick motion. Her figure was lithe, though she
was not a very active girl, and one might have predicted that at forty
she, too, would pay her debt to time in pounds of flesh. There are thin
people who look as though they could never grow stout, and there are
others whose leisurely motion and deliberate step foretells increase of
weight. But Gianbattista had not studied these matters of physiological
horoscopy. It sufficed him that Lucia Pandolfi was at present a very
pretty girl, even beautiful, according to some standards. Her thick
hair, low forehead, straight classic features, and severe mouth
fascinated the handsome apprentice, and the intimacy which had developed
between the two during the years of his residence under Marzio's roof,
from the time when Lucia was a little girl to the present day, had
rendered the transition from friendship to love almost imperceptible to
them both. Gianbattista was the last of the party to enter the lodging,
and as he paused to shut the door, Lucia was still lingering at