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Artois, from his window, saw the carriage rattle past, and saw his
friend leaning back in it, with alert eyes, to scan every woman
passing by. He stood on the balcony for a moment till the noise of the
wheels on the stone pavement died away. When he returned to his
writing-table the mood for work was gone. He sat down in his chair. He
took up his pen. But he found himself thinking of two people, the
extraordinary difference between whom was the cause of his now linking
them together in his mind. He found himself thinking of the Marchesino
and of Vere.
Not for a moment did he doubt the identity of the two women in the
white boat. They were Hermione and Vere. The Marchesino had read him
rightly, but Artois was not aware of it. His friend had deceived him,
as almost any sharp-witted Neapolitan can deceive even a clever
forestiere. Certainly he did not particularly wish to introduce his
friend to Vere. Yet now he was thinking of the two in connection, and
not without amusement.


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