“Surely you did not expect that,” she added.
“I hoped.”
“But I told you only a few days ago in the Borghese Garden—”
“That was, as you say, a few days ago. Things can change—”
“But this has not changed.”
He leaned back in his chair and surveyed her with some bitterness.
“It was not my plan to go with you—and others,” he said. “I ask you to reconsider your decision.”
Anne laughed. “Signor Curatulo,” she said, “you are a very tyrannical person.”
“That may be,” he answered. “It is certain that I want what I want.”
“I see my aunt coming this way, and I imagine that she is going to take me home,” continued Anne. “Shall I ask her when she can find a day for us all three to begin to see Rome?”
“It becomes a question, then, whether I would rather go with you and a chaperone or not at all.”
She assented. “Why should it annoy you?” she asked. “You are an Italian, who are never permitted to see the girls of your own race alone.”
“You forget that I have been in England. So I know what is expected— and not expected!” His52