The crude, hard light blazing in through the open windows
seemed like a violation.
He returned to the auction room. Again he breathed the nauseating
atmosphere. He turned round, and in a corner of the room perceived the
Princess of Ferentino and Barbarella Viti. He bowed and went over to
them.
'Well, Ugenta, what have you bought?'
'Nothing.'
'Nothing? Why, I should have thought you would buy everything.'
'Indeed, why?'
'Oh, it was just an idea of mine--a romantic idea.'
The princess laughed and Barbarella joined in.
'We are going. It is impossible to stay any longer in this perfume.
Good-bye, Ugenta--console yourself!'
Andrea went to the auctioneer's table. The man recognised him.
'Does the Signor Conte wish for anything in particular?'
'I will see,' Andrea answered.
The sale proceeded rapidly. He looked about him at the low faces of the
dealers, felt their elbows pushing him, their feet touching his, their
horrid breath upon him. Nausea gripped his throat.
'Going--going--gone!'
The stroke of the hammer rang like a knell through his heart and set his
temples throbbing painfully.
He bought the Buddha, a great carved cabinet, some china, some pieces
of drapery. Presently he heard the sound of voices, and laughter, and
the rustle of feminine skirts. He turned round to see Galeazzo Secinaro
entering, accompanied by Lady Heathfield and followed by the Countess
Lucoli, Gino Bomminaco and Giovanella Daddi.
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