such a flat back and such straight thick legs."

"More like an organ," put in Marcello, gravely. "He has a curious,
half-musical wheeze when he tries to move, like the organ in the church
at San Domenico, when the bellows begin to work."

"It is a shame to make fun of my horse," answered the Signora, smiling.
"But really I am not afraid of him. I have a little headache from the
drive, that is all."

"Take some phenacetine," said Corbario with concern. "Let me make you
quite comfortable before we start."

He arranged a long straw chair for her in a sheltered corner of the
verandah, with cushions and a rug and a small table beside it, on which
Marcello placed a couple of new books that had been brought down. Then
Folco went in and got a little glass bottle of tablets from his wife's
travelling-bag and gave her one. She was subject to headaches and always
had the medicine with her. It was the only remedy she ever carried or
needed, and she had such confidence in it that she felt better almost as
soon as she had swallowed the tablet her husband gave her.

"Let me stay and read to you," he said. "Perhaps you would go to sleep."

"You are not vain of your reading, my dear," she answered with a smile.
"No, please go with the others."

Then the Contessa offered to stay, and the good Signora had to use a
good deal of persuasion to make them all understand that she would much
rather be left alone. They mounted and rode away through the trees