After expecting to see one of the grotesque figures so often set
before us by German novelists and writers of _libretti_, he beheld a
simple, unpretentious man, whose manners and demeanor were in nothing
strange and did not lack dignity. Without the faintest trace of
luxury, his dress was more decent than might have been expected from
his extreme poverty, and his linen bore witness to the tender care
which watched over every detail of his existence. Andrea looked at
Marianna with moistened eyes; and she did not color, but half smiled,
in a way that betrayed, perhaps, some pride at this speechless homage.
The Count, too thoroughly fascinated to miss the smallest indication
of complaisance, fancied that she must love him, since she understood
him so well.

From this moment he set himself to conquer the husband rather than the
wife, turning all his batteries against the poor Gambara, who quite
guilelessly went on eating Signor Giardini's _bocconi_, without
thinking of their flavor.

The Count opened the conversation on some trivial subject, but at the
first words he perceived that this brain, supposed to be infatuated on
one point, was remarkably clear on all others, and saw that it would
be far more important to enter into this very clever man's ideas than
to flatter his conceits.

The rest of the company, a hungry crew whose brain only responded to
the sight of a more or less good meal, showed much animosity to the
luckless Gambara, and waited only till the end of the first course, to
give free vent to their satire. A refugee, whose frequent leer
betrayed ambitious schemes on Marianna, and who fancied he could
establish himself in her good graces by trying to make her husband