all these matters calmly, as a kind of mixture of diplomacy and business.
"Caro mio!" said Della Rocca lightly, as he descended the last step. "Be very sure that if I ever have such a purpose, your Lady Hilda has too much wit not to perceive it in a day. But I have not such a purpose. I do not like a woman who smokes."
And with a good night he walked away to his own house, which was a street or two distant. The Duc chuckled, no wise discomfited.
"An Italian always swears he will never do the thing he means to do in an hour," the Duc reflected as he got in his cab.
The Della Rocca Palace was let to many tenants and in various divisions; he himself retained only a few chambers looking upon the old quiet green garden, high walled, dark with ilex, and musical with fountains.
He crossed the silent courts, mounted the vast black stairways, and entered his solitary rooms. There was a lamp burning; and his dog got up and welcomed him. He slipped on an old velvet smoking coat, lighted a cigar, and sat down: the
