He was just as much a greater master than any other I ever saw, as he was a greater judge of time and measure. ‘The old man who lives here, idiot. Shouting to his companion, even as they passed by where I hid myself, he called out that he thought to find you at the convent. Her mother tried to soothe her with tales of romance and love, of all the fineries that she would enjoy in the Palazzo, but all Lucia could do was cry until her cheeks twitched and her forehead ached. The costume of this personage was somewhat singular, and might have passed for a masquerading habit, had not the imperturbable gravity of his demeanour forbidden any such supposition.
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