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Updated: July 2, 2025
"I meant that what a man could hardly have had the heart to do might, perhaps, have been done by a woman. Beauty is not, I fancy, always found to produce quite the same sort of effect on another female as it is wont to produce on the other sex." "Might have been done by a woman? That seems hardly likely, I think, caro mio. In the Pineta at that hour of the morning? Che!
I looked narrowly at him, but there was no ray of feeling or pride visible in his pale, languid visage as he responded, "Buona sera, caro."
He repeated his question twice without obtaining an answer. At last he heard a whisper: "May I be allowed not to answer? May I pray a moment?" "Yes, caro, yes!" Beside the monk's narrow bed, and high above the kneeling-desk, a great bare cross proclaimed: "Christ is risen; now nail thy soul to me!"
"Ten louis!" said he, suddenly, looking at Marillac as if he wished to look into his very heart. "Two hundred francs, if you like it better. A genuine bargain. But we have talked enough, 'mio caro'; you deceive yourselves if you think you are going to make me blab. No, indeed! I am not the one to allow myself to become entangled. I am now as mute and silent as the grave."
"La reverie a reussi a notre auteur," he says, a little reluctantly for M. Caro has his doubts as to the legitimacy of reverie; "Il en aufait une oeuvure qui restera."
And he was not at all accustomed to control himself or to fight his own impulses. For the moment "caro Emilio" became "maledetto Emilio" in his mind. Sleepless as Providence, Emilio reclined there. A slightly distracted look came into the Marchesino's eyes as he glanced away from his friend and stared once more at the islet, which he longed so ardently to invade.
She laughed, and her eyes flashed saucily. "Did I keep you waiting, caro mio?" she whispered; and standing on tiptoe she kissed the hand with which I held my cloak muffled about me. "How tall you look in that Almaviva! I am so sorry I am a little late, but that last waltz was so exquisite I could not resist it; only I wish YOU had danced it with me."
"That you are perfectly welcome to them," I replied. She looked slightly surprised. "You are really too good to me, caro mio," she said; "you spoil me." "CAN you be spoiled?" I asked, half jestingly. "Good women are like fine brilliants the more richly they are set the more they shine." She stroked my hand caressingly. "No one ever made such pretty speeches to me as you do!" she murmured.
May I come another day and just finish about the rendering of 'Lungi dal caro bene'?" "I shall be happy to be taught," said Rosamond. "But I am sure you admit that the interruption was a very beautiful one. I quite envy your acquaintance with Mrs. Casaubon. Is she very clever? She looks as if she were." "Really, I never thought about it," said Will, sulkily.
I one day discovered a letter at the bottom of the Canal of the Giudecca, to which watery resting-place some recreant, addressed as "Caro Antonio," had consigned it; and from this letter I came to know certainly of at least one love affair at the Marionette.
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