He saw that she did not
recognize him.
"I am Marino Malipieri," he said.
"You?" she cried in surprise.
Then a faint flush rose in her smooth cheeks, and Sabina, who was
watching her, saw that her lip trembled a little, and that tears rose
in her eyes.
"Forgive me," she said, in an unsteady voice. "I should have known
you, after all you have done for me."
"I think it is nearly thirteen years since we met," Malipieri
answered. "I had no beard then."
She looked at him long, evidently in strong emotion, but the tears did
not overflow, and the clear light came back gradually in her gaze.
Then the three sat down.
"I thought I had better come," she said. "It seemed easier than to
write."
"Yes," Sabina answered, not knowing what to say.
"You see," said the Signora, "I could not easily write to you frankly,
as I had never seen you, and I did not like to write to Signor
Malipieri about what I wanted to know."
"Yes," said Sabina, once more, but this time she looked at Malipieri.
"What is it that you wish to know, Signora?" he asked kindly, "Whether
it is all exactly as my letter told you? Is that it?"
She turned to him with a look of reproach.
"Does a woman doubt a man who has done what you have done for me?" she
asked. "I wanted to know something more--a little more than what you
wrote to me.
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