by his side, as if
he were disowning her in the presence of these two smart women who were
friends of his. She forgave him, for she was strangely humble in some
ways, but she hated them forthwith.

The Contessa, who was a woman of the world, nodded quietly and smiled as
if she had seen nothing, but she at once began to steer her daughter in
a divergent direction.

"You are looking very ill," she said, turning her head back as she moved
away. "Come and see us."

"Where?" asked Marcello, making half a step to follow, and looking at
the back of Aurora's head and at the pretty hat she wore.

The Contessa named a quiet hotel in the Rue Saint Honore, and was gone
in the crowd. Marcello stood quite still for a moment, staring after the
two. Then he felt Regina's hand slipping through his arm.

"Come," she said softly, and she led him away to the left.

He did not speak for a long time. They turned under the arches into the
Palais Royal, and followed the long portico in silence, out to the Rue
Vivienne and the narrow Rue des Petits Champs. Still Marcello did not
speak, and without a word they reached the Avenue de l'Opera. The light
was very bright there, and Regina looked long at Marcello's face, and
saw how white it was.

"She said you were looking very ill," said she, in a voice that shook a
little.

"Nonsense!" cried Marcello, rousing himself. "Shall we have supper at
Henry's or at the Cafe de Paris? We are near both."

"We will go home," Regina answered. "I do not want any supper to-night."

They reached their hotel. Regina tossed her hat upon a chair in the
sitting-room and drew Marcello to the light, holding him before her, and
scrutinising his face with extraordinary intensity. Suddenly her hands
dropped from his shoulders.

"She was right; you are ill. Who is this lady that knows your face
better than I?"

She asked the question in a tone of bitterness and self-reproach.

"The Contessa dell' Armi," Marcello answered, with a shade of
reluctance.

"And the girl?" asked Regina, in a flash of intuition.

"Her daughter Aurora." He turned away, lit a cigarette, and rang the
bell.

Regina bit her lip until it hurt her, for she remembered how often he
had pronounced that name in his delirium, many months ago. She could
not speak for a moment. A waiter came in answer to the bell, and
Marcello ordered something, and then sat down. Regina went to her room
and did not return until the servant had come back an