He was making up
his mind to something, for the life of me I could not tell what.
The Contessa and her satellites should have gone on to Chamounix next
day, but Gaeta frankly announced her intention of waiting, so that we
might make the journey together. They were driving over the Tete
Noire, and we would go afoot, to be sure; still, said she, we could
keep more or less together, exchanging impressions from time to time,
and lunching at the same place. She made me promise, as a reward to
her for this delay, that the Boy and I would not take the way of the
Col de Balme, by which no carriage could pass. If we did this, our
party and hers must part company early in the day, and she would be
left to the tender mercies of the Baron and Baronessa for many a
_triste_ hour.
"But why should you be imposed upon by them, if they don't amuse you?"
I ventured to ask; for Gaeta was so frank about her affairs that one
was sometimes led inadvertently to take liberties.
"Oh, it was the brother who amused me, and he amuses me still,"
replied she, with a _moue_, and a shrug of her pretty shoulders. "At
least, I don't _think_ I shall be tired of him, when I see him again.
He is a whirlwind; he carries a woman off her feet, before she knows
what is happening, and we like that in a man, we Italians. We adore
temperament. I was nice to the Baron and Baronessa for Paolo's sake.
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