I am rather tired
after to-day's run with the hounds. My regards to Donna Giulia--my
blessing go with you!'
Musellaro went up the steps of the palace and Andrea continued on his
way past the Borghese fountain towards the Trinita.
It was one of those wonderful January nights, cold and serene, which
turn Rome into a city of silver set in a ring of diamonds. The full
moon, hanging in mid-sky, shed a triple purity of light, of frost, and
of silence.
He walked along in the moonlight like a somnambulist, conscious of
nothing but his pain. The last blow had been struck, the idol was
shattered, nothing remained standing above the ruins--this was the end!
So it was true--she had never really loved him. She had not scrupled to
break with him in order to contract a marriage of convenience. And now
she put on the airs of a martyr before him, wrapped herself round with a
mantle of conjugal inviolability! A bitter laugh rose to his lips, and
then a rush of sullen blind rage against the woman came over him. The
memory of his passion went for nothing--all the past was one long fraud,
one stupendous, hideous lie; and this man, who throughout his whole life
had made a practice of dissimulation and duplicity, was now incensed at
the deception of another, was as indignant at it as at some unpardonable
backsliding, some inexcusable and inexplicable perfidy.
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