Was there a touch of hurt
pride in his withdrawal from the society of those who in former days
used to be called "the great"? At least he discovered this, that if he
did wish to withdraw from their society, nothing in the world was
easier. They did not importune him. He was free to go his own way.
Perhaps this also wounded him; perhaps it was to revenge himself that he
sought to increase his popularity with the crowd; at night he sang with
a sort of bravado to bring down the house; in the day-time it comforted
him to perceive from a distance in that or the other window a goodly
display of his photographs, which he had learned to recognize from afar.
But in whatever direction these wayward moods drew him or tossed him,
there was ever this all-pervading disquiet, and a haunting regret that
almost savored of remorse, and a sick impatience of the slow-passing and
lonely hours.
He had given up all hopes of hearing from Nina now or of gaining any
news of her. Pandiani had nothing to tell him. The Signorina Antonia
Rossi had not written to any of her Neapolitan friends, so far as could
be ascertained, since the previous December; certainly she had not
presented herself here in Naples to seek any engagement.
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