Milan, 28 October 1816, 8:30 p.m.
Palazzo Clerici
Irina Varga, in full regalia and busy preparing for the receptions since first light, had no difficulty in immediately receiving the three officials.
‘My dear sergeant, I see that today you’ve brought reinforcements. Good morning, Lieutenant Ziani! Good morning to you, sir! Perchance has Sergeant Sangalli waxed lyrical about our dinner last night and wanted you to savour other dishes typical of the Magyar, although I think now is not the time. I can have some good coffee made for you, if you so wish’.
Ziani and Sangalli accepted the offer with pleasure, although Vitali began to stammer all of a sudden, his face whitening:
‘The di─ dinner of last n─ night with him? What d─ does that mean, Countess?’
‘Make of it what you will
