Soon after twelve o'clock, Contini came back, hot and radiant. Maria
Consuelo had refused the water ice, but the charm of her manner had
repaid the architect for the disappointment. Orsino asked whether she
had decided upon any dwelling.
"She has taken the apartment in the Palazzo Barberini," answered
Contini. "I suppose she will bring her family in the autumn."
"Her family? She has none. She is alone."
"Alone in that place! How rich she must be!" Contini found the remains
of a cigar somewhere and lighted it thoughtfully.
"I do not know whether she is rich or not," said Orsino. "I never
thought about it."
He began to work at his books again, while Contini sat down and fanned
himself with a bundle of papers.
"She admires you very much, Don Orsino," said the latter, after a pause.
Orsino looked up sharply.
"What do you mean by that?" he asked.
"I mean that she talked of nothing but you, and in the most flattering
way."
In the oddly close intimacy which had grown up between the two men it
did not seem strange that Orsino should smile at speeches which he would
not have liked if they had come from any one but the poor architect.
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