[Omail-devel] spread

[Malmquist <log...@ci...>]

The Palazzetto. Reanda always came home to the midday breakfast, and it
was nearly time for him to be on his way. Gloria knew every turning
which he would take, and she hoped to meet him. Her eyes flashed in
anticipation of the contest, and she felt that he would not be able to
meet them. They would be too bright for him. There was a small mark on
her cheek still, where one of the sharp edges of the ivory slats had
scratched her fair skin, and there was a slight redness on that side,
but the bright red bar was gone. She was glad of it, as she nodded to a
passing acquaintance. She wished to assure herself that her husband was
really at the Palazzetto, and she inquired of the porter at the great
gate whether Reanda had been seen that morning. The man said that he had
come at the usual hour, and stood aside for her to pass, but she turned
from him abruptly and went away without a word. The blood rose in her
cheeks, and her heart beat angrily. He had attached no more importance
than this to what he had done, and had gone to his painting as though
nothing had happened