one; but his sister told him he ought to go. Caesar was at the second
dance, so as not to seem too much of an ogre. As he had no intention of
dancing, he installed himself in a corner; and while the dance went on he
kept talking with the Countesses Brenda and San Martino.

Various young men had arrived in the room. They exhibited that Southern
vivacity which is a trifle tiresome to the onlooker, and they all
listened to themselves while they spoke. The Neapolitan and two or three
of his friends were introduced to Caesar; but they showed him a certain
rather ostentatious and impertinent coolness.

Signor Carminatti exchanged a few words with the Countess Brenda, and
purposely acted as if he did not notice Caesar's presence.

The Neapolitan's chatter did not irritate Caesar in the slightest, and
as he had no intention of being his rival, he listened to him quite
entertained.

Caesar noted that the San Martino ladies and some friends of theirs
had a predilection for types like Carminatti, swarthy, prattling, and
boastful South Italians.

The ladies showed an affectionate familiarity with the girls; they
caressed them and kissed them effusively.

_YOU ARE AN INQUISITOR_

Laura, who was dancing with an officer, approached her brother, who was
wedged into a corner, behind two rows of chairs.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him, stopping and informing her
partner that she was going to sit down a moment.

"Nothing," answered Caesar, "I am waiting for this waltz to finish, so
that I can get away."

"You are not enjoying yourself?"

"Pish!"

"Nevertheless, there are amusing things about it."

"Ah, surely. Do you know what happened to me with the Countess Brenda?"

"What did happen?"

"When she came in and gave me her hand, she said: 'How hot your hands
are; mine are frozen.' And she held my hands between hers. That was
comical."

"Comical! Why?"

"How do I know?"

"It is comical to you, because you see only evil motives. She held your
hand. Who knows what she may be after? Who knows if she wants to get
something out of you? She has an income of eighty or ninety thousand
lire, perhaps she wants to borrow money from you."

"No, I know she doesn't."

"Then, what are you afraid of?"

"Afraid! Afraid of nothing! Only it surprised me."

"That's because you look at everything with the eye of an inquisitor.
One must be suspicious: be always on one's guard, always on the watch.
It's the attitude of