Piteously cold though she was, the blood rushed to her face as she
uttered the words; but Malipieri felt it in his throat and eyes.
"Certainly," he answered, as if she had asked the most natural thing
in the world. "Sit upon my knees, and I will hold my arms round you,
till you are warm."
He settled himself on the marble limbs of the Aphrodite, and the frail
young girl seated herself on his knees, and nestled to him for warmth,
while he held her close to him, covering her with his arms as much as
he could. They went quite round her, one above the other, and she hid
her face against his shoulder. He could feel her trembling with the
cold like a leaf, under the coat he had made her put on.
Suddenly she started a little, but not as if she wished to go; it was
more like a sob than anything else.
"What is the matter?" he asked, steadying his voice with difficulty.
"I am so ashamed of myself!" she answered, and she buried her face
against his shoulder again.
"There is nothing to be ashamed of," he said gently. "Are you a little
warmer now?"
"Oh, much, much! Let me stay just a little longer."
"As long as you will," he answered, pressing her to him quietly.
He wondered if she could hear his heart, which was beating like a
hammer, and whether she noticed anything strange in his voice.
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