ratification. "Do you think we haven't been following
your doings in Madrid? Though you never were a friend, exactly, of good
old Cupido, you've been writing him frequently--and all sorts of
nonsense; just as a pretext for the really important thing--the
postscript, with your regards to the 'illustrious artist,' sure to
provoke the consoling reply that the 'illustrious artist' was still
here. How those letters made me laugh!"

"Anyway, that will prove I wasn't lying that day when I assured you I
would not forget, in Madrid. Well, Leonora; I didn't! The separation has
made me worse, much worse, in fact."

"Thanks, Rafael," Leonora answered, quite seriously, as if she had lost
mastery over the irony of former days. "I know you're telling the
truth. And it saddens me, because it really is too bad. You understand,
of course, that I can't love you.... So--if you don't mind--let's talk
of something else."

And hastily, to shift the conversation from such dangerous ground, she
began to chat about her rustic pleasures.

"I have a hen-coop that's too charming for anything. If you could only
see me mornings, in a circle of cackling feathers, throwing fusillades
of corn about to keep the roosters away. You see they get under my
skirts and peck at my feet. It's hard to realize I can be the same woman
who, just a few months ago, was brandishing a stage lance and
interpreting Wagner's dreams, no less, as finely as you please! You'll
soon see _my_ vassals. I have the most astonishing layers you ever saw;
and every morning I rummage around in the straw like a thief to get the
eggs, and when I find them, they are still warm.... I've forgotten the
piano. I hadn't opened it for more than a week, but this afternoon--I
don't know why--I just felt like spending a little while in the society
of the geniuses. I was thirsty for music ... one of those moody whims of
the olden days. Perhaps the presentiment that you were coming: the
thought of those afternoons when you were upstairs, sitting like a booby
in the corner, listening to me.... But don't jump to the conclusion, my
dear deputy, that everything here is mere play--just chickens and the
simple life. No, sir! I have turned my leisure to serious account. I
have done big things to the house. You would never guess! A bathroom, if
you please! And it just scandalizes poor auntie; while Beppa says it's
a sin to give so much thought to matters of the body. I could give up
many of my old habits