"You have put it all together, you
wonderful Zoya! Compared to you, I never seem to see anything! Oh, but
this whole day has been full of horrible surprises. I never dreamed what
sort of man Giovanni is--and yet I can't help feeling sorry to think of
his being sent off ill and alone!"
"How _very_ pathetic!" exclaimed Zoya sarcastically. "It is the very
saddest thing I have ever heard of." Then her tone changed. "I would not
waste too much sympathy on him for his loneliness, however," she said
briskly, "as he has a very charming companion, who, if accounts are
true, is not only diverting but devoted. That spoils your sad picture
somewhat, does it not?"
"The Potensi!" escaped Nina's lips before she knew it.
Zoya blew rings of smoke unperturbed. "So you have found _that_ out,
have you?"
Nina colored with indignation. "Have you known that, too, and never told
me? Zoya, you call yourself my friend!"
But Zoya met Nina's glance squarely, as she asked in turn: "What
difference does it make? Though, for that matter, I've made it plain all
winter; any one but a baby would have understood long ago. But after
all, why such an excitement over such a commonplace fact?" Then, with
far more interest, she said: "You certainly are funny, you Americans.
What in the world do you think men are? And since Giovanni is not even
married? However, to finish my story: it was not the Potensi with your
hero, but Favorita.
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