The red of Nenè’s smock and the blackness of her hair suddenly struck her. Red and black, black and red filled the room, making her eyes water. She feared she would start crying in front of everyone.

Finally her father turned to her. She made a sign that she wanted to leave.

“Going already?”

“It’s late. My sisters are waiting up,” murmured don Tano, eyeing his daughter anxiously.

No one stopped them.

The cold air that lashed at Caterina’s face froze her tears as she walked mechanically, her knees trembling. Father and daughter said nothing to one another. Don Tano felt as though he should say nothing. Once home, Caterina became cross when Aunt Fifì asked her a few questions.

She closed herself in her room: she undressed hurriedly, fearing she wouldn’t make it in time; she threw herself into her cold little bed with a long shiver, remaining perfectly still, with her face in her pillow, crying disconsolately.

Red and black, black and red, Nenè’s laugh, Nenè, who knew how to live, was in front of her in the dark, beyond her closed eyelids.

In the kitchen, Aunt Vanna asked her brother: “So how did it go? What is he like?”

“He’s nice. It went fine, up to a certain point. Then he started talking with Nenè.

I’m sure he liked Caterina. He was just talking with Nenè to make himself look important. She was very quiet…. I think she may have been a little jealous. But we’ll see tomorrow. I’d say …”

“I’d say,” interrupted Aunt Fifì rudely, “that if nothing comes of this, we should take her to the country. Her nerves are exhausted. One mourning period after another…. The timing was bad…. And then this whole thing was planned poorly. It’s no different than if we’d sent her off to the auction…. I was right! Do you both want to make her insane?”

But the next morning they didn’t talk anymore about going to the country. Caterina woke up serene, tranquil, and sad, yes, as always (she was that way by nature), a little pale, yes (but she was so delicate!).

Aunt Fifì began, rather encouraged: “Your father said that the professor …”

“Listen, Auntie,” began Caterina very calmly, “the biggest favor you can do for me is not talk about him. I don’t like him.”

“Oh! Why? Your father …”

“He’s ugly…. And besides, he has these ears….” she added, in order to justify herself. “I don’t have the courage to tell signora Teta. Will you do it for me? Tell her whatever you want.”

Out of impatience, signora Teta suddenly showed up earlier than usual. “And Caterina?”

“She’s in her room. She’ll be coming shortly.”

“It didn’t go too well yesterday evening. But perhaps …”

Aunt Vanna, unprepared, blushed. Aunt Fifi explained timidly. “She didn’t like him.”

“She didn’t like him?”