"I will Put down the glass."
"I tell you there's too much wind."
"I'll look out all the same," she said, with the obstinacy of a spoilt child.
Antonio tried to open the window, but the wind was really too strong, and Regina changed her mind.
"Shut it up! Shut it up!" she cried.
He obeyed.
"But think! think!" he repeated, "you are at Rome! They will be just starting for the station," he observed gravely, and advised her to put on her hat and get herself ready. "Settle your hair," he said; "and where have you put the powder?"
"Am I very hideous?" asked Regina, passing her hand over her face.
She sat down, opened her dressing-bag, smoothed her hair, powdered her face; then again put on the grey cloak which Antonio held for her, and buttoned it up. Her little face emerged from its sable collar as from a cup. It was pale and tired, all lips and eyes, reminding one of the pretty little face of a kitten.
"That's all right!" said Antonio, surveying her adoringly.
Again she rose and leaned against the door. A long wall was fleeting past the train; then came houses, hedges, gardens, canes bending under the wind, now and then lamps flaring yellow in the great whiteness of the autumn moon.
"San Paolo! The Tiber!" said Antonio, still at Regina's side.
San Paolo! The Tiber! Regina just perceived the sheen of the river and her heart beat strongly. Yet, as often happened to her, after the first moment's wild
