hands gently. At last I went off into a mad roar of laughter; it struck
me as so whimsical and original an adventure.

"Laugh too," said I to the lady, "laugh or I will never get up."

"I agree with you that it's laughable enough, but I have not the spirit
to laugh."

"Well, sit down at all events."

I gave the poor devil of a vetturino two sequins, telling him that I
should like some coffee and to start in a quarter of an hour.

I was grieved to see my companion's sadness.

"I understand your grief," said I, "but you must try to overcome it. I
have only one favour to ask of you, and if you refuse to grant me that, I
shall be as sad as you, so we shall be rather a melancholy couple."

"What can I do for you?"

"You can tell me on your word of honour whether that extraordinary
character is your husband, or only your lover."

"I will tell you the simple truth; he is not my husband, but we are going
to be married at Rome."

"I breathe again. He never shall be your husband, and so much the better
for you. He has seduced you, and you love him, but you will soon get over
that."