Shades of Daphne Du Maurier's Rebecca, we have a wealthy, worldly, dominating and arrogant Italian aristo plucking a young, virginal, poor, working class English nurse, on the rebound from a failed love affair with a beautiful, glamorous, but icy and disloyal Contessa. I would have liked it better if the heroine wasn't so damn stupid and down on herself (one of those shy, retiring types who think they are nothing special even as pretty much all the men in the story, including her husband, are falling at her feet like love struck fools). The Great, Big, Terrible Misunderstandings about him pining away for his last love, or having fathered an illegitimate son before he married the heroine, were too clumsy. No one, except for the stupid heroine, could have fallen for these red herrings, so that the resolution of them were tedious and unsatisfying. Not one of my favorite VWs that's for sure.