She would not look at him, would not think of him; when her mind wavered, then she muttered to herself in the darkness so as to keep hold of her generalizations. “You would be wise to loosen your purse-strings, Gianfrancesco. He stepped quickly towards her. Playing with one hand he turned on his stool to glance at her. He held her eyes. He walked through a wide open archway, curtained with deep-blue curtains, into the apartment that served as a reception-room. Call her Miss Pellissier, eh? I tell you she’s my wife, and I’ve got the certificate in my pocket.
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