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The sunny morning, the first after a
week of rain, offered him an excuse for suggesting
a walk among the garden slopes by San Niccolo.
"No," she answered; "I should like a walk if
you have time; but not to the hills. Let us keep
along the Lung'Arno; Montanelli will pass on his
way back from church and I am like Grassini--
I want to see the notability."
"But you have just seen him."
"Not close. There was such a crush in the
Cathedral, and his back was turned to us when the
carriage passed. If we keep near to the bridge
we shall be sure to see him well--he is staying
on the Lung'Arno, you know."
"But what has given you such a sudden fancy
to see Montanelli? You never used to care about
famous preachers."
"It is not famous preachers; it is the man himself;
I want to see how much he has changed since I saw him last."
"When was that?"
"Two days after Arthur's death."
Martini glanced at her anxiously. They had
come out on to the Lung'Arno, and she was staring
absently across the water, with a look on her
face that he hated to see.


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