He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. Creeping along quickly on his hands and knees, he found the entrance to a covered drain, into which he crept. As he crossed this chamber, his foot struck against something on the floor, which nearly threw him down, and stooping to examine the object, he found it was a key. She had been quite convinced that an engagement with him and at last a marriage had exactly that quality of compromise which distinguishes the ways of the wise. The Palazzo was unlike anything she had ever known. He wore a long coat, beautifully flowered, and a hat with a turned up brim.
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