e a string of pearls in his pocket, and
tried to fasten it round her throat; but she would not let him do it.
She was angry.

"Keep those things for your wife!" she said, with flashing eyes and
standing back from him. "I will wear the clothes you buy for me, because
you like me to be pretty and I don't want you to be ashamed of me. But I
will not take jewels, for jewels are money, just as gold is! You can buy
a wife with that stuff, not a woman who loves you!"

Her brows were level and stern, her face grew whiter as she spoke, and
Marcello was suddenly aware, for the first time in his life, that he did
not understand women. That knowledge comes sooner or later to almost
every man, but many are spared it until they are much older than he was.

"I did not mean to offend you," he said, in a rather injured tone, as he
slipped the pearls into his pocket.

"Of course not," she answered. "But you do not understand. If I thought
you did, I would go back to the inn and never see you again. I should
die, but it would not matter, for I should still respect myself!"

"I only wished to please you," said Marcello apologetically.

"You wish to please me? Love me! That is what I want. Love me as much as
you can, it will always be less than I love you, and as long as you can,
it will always be less long than I shall love you, for that will be
always. And when you are tired of me, tell me so, heart of my heart, and
I will go away, for that is better than to hang like a chain on a young
man's neck. I will go away, and God will forgive me, for to love you is
all I know."

His kisses closed her flashing eyes, and her lips parted in a faint,
expectant smile, that was not disappointed.

So time passed, and Marcello heard occasionally from Corbario, and wrote
to him once or twice, when he needed money. Folco never alluded to
Regina, and Marcello wondered whether he guessed that she had left Rome.
He was never quite sure how much Folco knew of his life, and Folco was
careful never to ask questions.

But the existence Marcello was leading was not calculated to restore his
strength, which had never been great, even before his illness. Though
Regina did not understand the language, she grew very fond of the
theatre, for Marcello translated and explained everything; and it was
such a pleasure to give her pleasure, that he forgot the stifling air
and the late hours. Moreover, he met in Paris a couple of acquaintances
a little older than hi