CHAPTER IV
Throwing the Line
In the next instant Bianca heard the door of the room in which she
was sitting opened very gently; it was Gigia who opened it, so
gently as to enable her mistress to keep her eyes on a book she held
in her hand, apparently unconscious that she was not alone. The
Marchese Lamberto advanced two paces within the room, and then
stopped gazing at the exquisite picture before his eyes. Bianca knew
that all her preparatory cares were doing the work they were
intended to do. But no sound had yet been made to compel her to
recognize her visitor's presence; and she remained as motionless as
a recumbent statue.
"I fear, Signora--," said the Marchese, after a few instants given
to profiting by the rare opportunity a singular chance had given
him,--"I fear, Signora--
"Santa Maria, who is there!" cried Bianca in a voice of alarm,
starting to her feet as she spoke with a bound, that none but so
skilled an artist and so perfect a figure could have executed with
the faultless elegance with which she accomplished it.
"A thousand pardons, Signora; your servant--"
"The Marchese Lamberto! It is unpardonable in the woman--to have so
failed in her duty-towards your Excellency! It is I who have to beg
your indulgence, Signor Marchese. Can it be one o'clock already? In
truth I had no idea it was so late; and I have still to dress! How
can I apologize to your Excellency sufficiently for appearing before
you in this dishabille?"
"Nay, Signora, it is in truth I who have to apologize; it is not yet
one o'clock, it is not much past twelve! And I feel that I am guilty
of an unwarrantable intrusion.
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