EVENING"]

A short distance from the gate, where the inn stands that goes by the
name of Baldinotti, he took the turning to the left, which is the
Frascati road; and after that he walked more slowly, often stopping and
peering into the gloom to right and left, as if he were trying to
recognise objects in the Campagna.

CHAPTER XII

Corbario was not pleased with the account given by Settimia in the
letter she wrote him after reaching Pontresina with Regina and Marcello,
who had chosen the Engadine as the coolest place he could think of in
which to spend the hot months, and had preferred Pontresina to Saint
Moritz as being quieter and less fashionable. Settimia wrote that the
dear patient had looked better the very day after arriving; that the
admirable companion was making him drink milk and go to bed at ten
o'clock; that the two spent most of the day in the pine-woods, and that
Marcello already talked of an excursion up the glacier and of climbing
some of the smaller peaks. If the improvement continued, Settimia wrote,
it was extremely likely that the dear patient would soon be better than
he had ever been in his life.

Folco destroyed the letter, lit a cigarette, and thought the matter
over. He had deemed it wise to pretend assent when the Contessa had
urged him to join Marcello at once, but he had not had the least
intention of doing so, and had come back to Paris as soon as he was sure
that the Contessa was gone. But he had made a mistake in his
calculations. He had counted on Regina for the love of excitement,
display, and inane dissipation which women in her position very often
develop when they find that a man will give them anything they like; and
he had counted very little on her love for Marcello. Folco was still
young enough to fall into one of the most common errors of youth, which
is to believe most people worse than they are. Villains, as they grow
older, learn that unselfish devotion is more common than they had
thought, and that many persons habitually speak the truth, for
conscience' sake; finding this out, villains have been known to turn
into good men in their riper years, and have sometimes been almost
saints in their old age. Corbario smoked his cigarette and mentally
registered his mistake, and it is to be feared that the humiliation he
felt at having made it was much more painful than the recollection of
having dropped one deadly tablet into a little bottle that contained
many harmless