On his third visit to the island she had surprised him, that is, she had glanced up suddenly and caught the look of the beast in his eyes. He was braver than her husband, who paced and cowered in the corners of the once-sunny Palazzo. She gathered her black purse, a pointless thing made of cardboard covered in sateen and bejeweled with an assortment of rhinestones. Gazing into each other's eyes with new-found rapture, neither observed the sudden appearance in the doorway of an elderly woman in travel-stained linen. “It’s a matter of feeling with me. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. . ‘And you come to me, thinking yourself half French, and expect me to take you in. ‘Precisely.
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