Diana laid her fingers gently on his arm, and Marcantonio broke out into solicitous protestations.
Marcantonio himself was among the foremost in this movement.
Again she involuntarily drew a comparison in her mind between Marcantonio and some one, something she could not define.
Marcantonio was really delighted to do anything his wife might wish.
Marcantonio turned away for a moment, and got out his revolver.
"The Germans need not paint the devil," retorted Marcantonio, irrelevantly.
"It is better to laugh at it than to cry at it," said Marcantonio, without meaning anything.
Marcantonio passed his hand over his eyes and sighed as he sat watching them.
Marcantonio was talking pleasantly, with a quick smile that came and went at every minute.
Marcantonio was charmed with his idea; it seemed the most natural thing in the world.