UMBERTO D'ALAQUA HAD SENT A CAR TO pick Sofia up at the hotel, and at the door of the opera house the assistant manager of the theater had been waiting to escort her to her host.

That touch was impressive, but she felt the full impact of D'Alaqua's stature when she entered his box. The other guests were members of the city's-and the country's-rich and powerful elite: Cardinal Visier, Dr. Bolard, two eminent bankers, a member of the Agnelli family and his wife, and Mayor Torriani and his wife.

D'Alaqua stood up and welcomed her warmly, with a squeeze of her hands. He seated her next to the mayor and his wife and Dr. Bolard. He himself was seated next to Cardinal Visier, who had greeted her with a cool smile.

She felt the men looking at her out of the corners of their eyes-all except the cardinal, Bolard, and D'Alaqua. She'd taken pains to look not just good but stunning. That afternoon she had gone to the hairdresser's and returned to Armani, this time to buy an elegant red tunic-and-pants outfit. It was a color the designer didn't often use, but it was spectacular, Marco and Giuseppe had assured her. The tunic had a low neckline, and the mayor couldn't seem to keep his eyes off it.

Marco was surprised that D'Alaqua had sent a car to pick Sofia up rather than coming personally, but Sofia understood the message. D'Alaqua had no personal interest in her; she was simply his guest to the opera. The man put unbreachable barriers between them, and though he did so subtly, he left no room for doubt.

At the intermission, they repaired to D'Alaqua's private salon for champagne and canapes.

'Are you enjoying the opera, dottoressa?"

Cardinal Visier was looking her over as he asked her the clichéd question.

"Yes, Your Eminence. Pavarotti has been wonderful tonight."

"He has indeed, although La Boheme is not his best opera."

Guido Bonomi entered the salon and effusively greeted D'Alaqua's guests.

"Sofia! You look absolutely gorgeous! I have a whole list of friends dying to meet you, and not a few wives jealous because their husbands' opera glasses have been on you more than on Pavarotti! You're one of those women who make other women very nervous, my dear!"

Sofia blushed. She was losing patience with Bonomi's inappropriate effusions and looked at him furiously.

The professor read the message in her blue eyes and changed course abruptly.

"Well, then, I'll be expecting you all for dinner. Your Eminence, dottoressa, mayor…"

D'Alaqua had seen Sofia's discomfort and stepped to her side.

"Guido's like that; he always has been. An excellent man, an eminent medievalist, but personally a bit… shall we say… exuberant? Don't be upset."

"I'm not upset with him, I'm upset with myself. I have to ask what I'm doing here; I don't belong. If you don't mind, when the performance is over I'll go back to the hotel."

"No, don't go, dottoressa. Stay, and forgive your old professor, who can't seem to find the proper way to express his admiration for you. But he is sincere in that."

"I'm sorry, but I really should go. There's no reason at all for me to go to dinner at Bonomi's house; I was a student of his, that's all. I shouldn't even have let myself be invited to the opera on account of him. To take a place in your box, among your guests, your friends… really, I apologize for the trouble I've caused you."

"You've caused me no trouble at all, 1 assure you."

The bell announced the end of the intermission, and Sofia reluctantly allowed D'Alaqua to guide her back to his box.

As the next act unfolded Sofia noticed that D'Alaqua was discreetly watching her. She felt like fleeing on the spot, but she was damned if she'd behave like a silly girl. She'd stick it out to the end, then she'd say her good-byes and never cross his path again. He had nothing to do with the shroud-it was absurd, and she intended to tell Marco that once and for all.

When the performance was over, the audience gave Pavarotti his usual standing ovation. Sofia took advantage of the moment to say good evening to the mayor, his wife, the Agnellis, and the bankers. Finally, she approached Cardinal Visier.

"Good night, Your Eminence."

"You're leaving?"

"Yes."

Visier, surprised, tried to catch D'Alaqua's eye, but he was conversing animatedly with Bolard.

"Dottoressa, I'd be very disappointed if you did not come with us to dinner," the cardinal told Sofia.

"Oh, Your Eminence, I'm sure you understand better than anyone how uncomfortable I am. I really must go. I don't want to be any trouble."

"Well, if there is no way to convince you… but I do hope to see you again. Your view of modern archaeological methods intrigued me-your ideas are so innovative, really. I studied archaeology before devoting myself entirely to the Church, you know."

D'Alaqua interrupted them.

"The cars are waiting…"

"Dottoressa Galloni is not coming with us," Visier told him.

"I'm so sorry, I'd hoped you would, but if you'd rather not, the car will take you to your hotel."

"Thank you, but I'd prefer to walk-the hotel is not far."

"Forgive me, dottoressa," the cardinal interrupted, "but I don't think you should walk alone. Turin is a complicated city; my mind would be easier if you would let the car take you."

Sofia gave in so they wouldn't think her entirely ungracious.

'All right, thank you."

"Don't thank me," the cardinal murmured. "You are a formidable person, of great merit-you mustn't allow others to affect you so. Although I imagine that your beauty has been more of an inconvenience for you than an advantage, precisely because you have never traded on it."

The cardinal's unexpected words were comforting. D'Alaqua accompanied her to the car.

"I'm glad you came, Dottoressa Galloni."

"Thank you."

"Will you be staying in Turin for a few more days?"

"Yes, perhaps for as long as two weeks."

"I'll ring you, and if you have time I'd like us to have lunch together."

Sofia stammered a soft 'All right" as D'Alaqua closed the car door and gave the driver instructions to take her to her hotel.

As the rest of the party departed, Cardinal Visier confronted Sofia's old teacher.

"Professore Bonomi, you have offended Dottoressa Galloni and offended all of us who were with her. Your contribution to the Church is undeniable, and we are grateful for all you've done as our principal expert in sacred medieval art, but that does not give you the right to behave like a lout."

D'Alaqua watched, floored.

"Paul, I didn't think Dottoressa Galloni had made such an impression on you," he commented a few moments later when they were alone.

The cardinal shook his head. "I think Bonomi behaved terribly-he acted like an old lecher, and he offended her unnecessarily. Sometimes I ask myself how Bonomi's artistic talents can be so unrelated to the rest of the man's life. Galloni seems to me a good, serious person-intelligent, well educated, refined-a woman I could fall in love with were I not a cardinal. If we… if we weren't who we are."

"I'm surprised at your candor."

"Oh, please, Umberto, you know as well as I do that celibacy is a hard, hard option-as hard as it is necessary. I have kept my vow, God knows I have, but that doesn't mean that if I see an intelligent, beautiful woman I don't appreciate her. I'd be a hypocrite if I denied it. We have eyes, we can see, and just as we admire a statue by Bernini, or are moved by the marbles of Phidias, or tremble at the hardness of the granite of an Etruscan tomb, we recognize the value of the people around us. Let's not offend each other's intelligence by pretending we don't see the beauty and worth of Dottoressa Galloni. I hope you'll do something to make it up to her."