"Oh, she has that kind of attraction," Nina answered disdainfully. "She's always surrounded by men, wherever she is. Really she cares about nothing else. And she sentimentalises over them all—talks about their souls and the higher life and so on, when really all that she means … I know, because she stayed with us one summer, and the other affair was going on then. I saw it, but I couldn't do anything. I talked to her, though. I warned her about Egisto. There's a bottom of savagery in all Italians, and it's dangerous to touch it. But she thought she could always manage Egisto. And she always had some fine phrase ready—she would wrap everything up in cotton-wool and make it look pretty. She told me all American women were as cold as ice—no temperament, no feeling. Well, all I can say is, I'm glad I haven't a temperament. I can't see what use it is to women. A little common sense goes a long way further, considering what we have to do in the world. I shall telegraph to Ernesto to come at once. He really must come, now she's here, and take part of the responsibility."
••••••
A week later Ernesto appeared upon the scene, accompanied by four large trunks, his valet, and his usual air of bland content with the world, which recent heavy losses at Monte Carlo and even the domestic situation had not diminished
