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Updated: May 16, 2025
Signor Odoardo's visits are too frequent; and now, in addition, there are the conversations from the window. It is time for a decisive step to be taken, and Signor Odoardo is afraid that he may find himself taking the step before he is prepared to; this very day, perhaps, when he goes to call on the widow.
And yet he is not sure of resisting Signora Evelina's wiles; he is almost afraid that, when he sees his enchantress on the morrow, all his strong resolves may take flight. There is but one way out of it. "Doretta," says Signor Odoardo. "Father?" "Are you going to copy out your letter to your grandmamma this evening?" "Yes, father." "Wouldn't you rather go and see your grandmamma yourself?"
Doretta, crouching in a corner of the room, cries less vehemently, but has not yet finished crying. Just like the weather outside, it snows less heavily, but it still snows. Signor Odoardo covers his eyes with his hand. How many thoughts are thronging through his head, how many affections are contending in his heart! If he could but banish the vision of Signora Evelina but he tries in vain.
Signora Evelina is a person of great determination; she knows how to turn other people's heads without letting her own be moved a jot. Signora Evelina is deep; deep enough, surely, to gain her point. If Signor, Odoardo flutters about her much longer he will! singe his wings; things cannot go on in this; way.
Signor Odoardo, for his part, receives his new guest with some diffidence; but Doretta, intervening in Melanio's favor, undertakes to answer for his good conduct. It is long since Doretta has eaten with so much appetite. When she has finished her breakfast, she clears the table as deftly and promptly as she had laid it, and in a few moments Signor Odoardo's study has resumed its wonted appearance.
Her head rests upon a cushion, her little rag and horse- hair body is wrapped in a woollen coverlet, her lids are closed; for Nini raises or lowers her lids according to the position of her body. Signor Odoardo looks at the clock and then glances out of the window. It is two o'clock and the snow is still falling. Doretta is struck by another idea.
He orders his luggage packed for an absence of two months. Doretta goes to bed early, but all night long she tosses about under the bed-clothes, waking her nurse twenty times to ask: "Is it time to get up?" Signor Odoardo, too, is awake when the man-servant comes to call him the next morning at six o'clock. "What sort of a day is it?" "Very bad, sir just such another as yesterday.
At dinner she eats little and talks incessantly of the journey, asking again and again what time it is, and at what time they are to start. "Are you afraid of missing the train?" Signor Odoardo asks with a smile. And yet, though he dissembles his impatience, it is as great as hers. He longs to go away, far away. Perhaps he may not return until spring.
Et che cio sia la verita, le nauigationi che hanno fatte gl' Inglesi con le loro naui, volendo andare a scoprire il Cataio al tempo del Re Odoardo Sesto d'Inghilterra, questi anni passati, ne possono far vera testimonianza: perche nel mezzo del loro viaggio, capitate per fortuna a i liti di Moscouia doue trouarano all' hora regnare Giouanni Vasiliuich Imperatore della Rossia e gran Duca di Moscouia, il quale con molto piacere e marauiglia vedutogli, fece grandissime carezze, hanno trouato quel mare essere nauigabile, e non agghiacciato.
"Now you are talking foolishly," Signor Odoardo admonishes her in a severe tone, setting her down from his knee. She bursts into passionate weeping. "Come, Doretta, come...Is this the way you keep your daddy company?...Enough of this, Doretta." But, say what he pleases, Doretta must have her cry. Her brown eyes are swimming in tears, her little breast heaves, her voice is broken by sobs.
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