One incident, indeed, is related which the chronicler thought to be
curious, though he did not comprehend it. The Princess Clementina
brought from her confessional box a wisp of straw which clung to her
dress at the knee. Until Wogan had placed the King's ring upon her
finger, she did not apparently remark it; but no sooner had that office
been performed than she stooped, and with a friendly smile at her
makeshift bridegroom, she plucked it from her skirt and let it fall
beneath her foot.

And that was all. No words passed between them after the ceremony, for
her Royal Highness went straight back to the little house in the garden,
and that same forenoon set out for Rome.

She was not the only witness of the ceremony to take that road that day.
For some three hours later, to be precise, at half-past two, Maria
Vittoria stepped into her coach before the Pilgrim Inn. Wogan held the
carriage door open for her. He was still in the bravery of his wedding
clothes, and Maria Vittoria looked him over whimsically from the top of
his peruke to his shoe-buckles.

"I came to see a fool-woman," said she, "and I saw a fool-man. Well,
well!" and she suddenly lowered her voice to a passionate whisper. "Why,
oh, why did you not take your fortunes in your hands at Peri?"

Wogan leaned forward to her. "Do you know so much?"