Alpha Book

She was of the type of women who live to a great
age.
She had not expected to see Sant' Ilario, and as she gave her hand, she
looked up at him with an air of inquiry. It would have been like him to
say that he had come to see her husband and not herself, for he had no
tact with persons whom he did not especially like. There are such people
in the world.
"Will you give me a cup of tea, Flavia?" he asked, as he sat down, after
shaking hands with Spicca.
"Have you at last heard that your cousin's tea is good?" inquired the
latter, who was surprised by Giovanni's coming.
"I am afraid it is cold," said Flavia, looking into the teapot, as
though she could discover the temperature by inspection.
"It is no matter," answered Giovanni absently.
He was wondering how he could lead the conversation to the discussion of
Madame d'Aranjuez.
"You belong to the swallowers," observed Spicca, lighting a fresh
cigarette. "You swallow something, no matter what, and you are
satisfied."
"It is the simplest way--one is never disappointed.


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