THE W 0 M A-NF
It
0 M M EX leo
tS
a dignified, if somewhat rigid, idea of himself. And noW the
temptation which Luciano's mistake aroused in
his
mind made
him
doubtful of himself. "It's quite dear," he thought; "all
I need to do is to give up the idea of going up to Albina's flat
and go home, and then Luciano will be convinced-·that he was
wrong." But he noticed that-in spite of himself, so -to speak–
he had
in
the meantime advanced a step or two alorig the pas–
sage into the house. It was an old, dirty house, the passage was
dark, and a damp, musty smell filled the air; and yet, inex–
plicably, the decrepitude, the dirtiness, the smell, the gloom
attracted and excited him. His heart had started to beat faster
and
his
breath almost failed him. "I'll hand over the gloves to
her and then I'll go," he said to himself finally, as he walked
on towards the end of the passage.
He ran up three flights of stairs, his mind in a state of
combined oppresc;ion and eagerness, and, in a
dim,
uncertain
light, rang the bell at a small door that appeared to
be
coated
with pitch. It was opened by a bony woman with untidy hair,
wearing an apron, with a baby on her arm and a charcoal-fan
in her hand. At the mention of Albina she pointed with the fan,
without saying a word, to a door at the end of a pasc;age. Sergio,
his
hat in one hand and his umbrella in the other and feeling
more
ill
at ease than ever, crossed a small, bare hall, went to
the end of the passage and knocked at the door.
A woman's voice called to him to come iiI. He pushed
open the door and found himself in a narrow little room which
appeared to be a mere prolongation of the passage. In a row,
on one side, were a small wardrobe, a sofa covered with worn
red material, and a little table and chair; on the other side
.there was just enough room left for a person to move. At- the
far end, in front of the closed window, stood an old dressing-
table with faded draperies and dirty ribbons; and at the dress–
ing-table sat Albina. Her rounded hips, finn and youthful,
