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"Do forgive me! Madre, I know I'm behaving shamefully, but we are all
so hopelessly inappropriate. Your diamond broach, Madre! And your hat
is all on one side. Gaspare must have knocked it with the umbrella. I
am sure we all look like hens in a shower!"
She leaned back against the swaying side of the cabin and laughed till
the tears were in her eyes. The sudden coming of the storm had
increased the excitement that had been already within her, created by
the incidents of the day.
"Vere!" said her mother, but smiling through the protest.
The Marchesino showed his big white teeth. Everything that Vere did
seemed to develop his admiration for her. He was delighted with this
mood, and forgot his disappointment. But there was a glint of wonder
in his eyes, and now he said:
"But the Signorina is not afraid! She does not cry out! She does not
call upon the Madonna and the Saints! My mother, my sisters, if they
were here--"
The prow of the launch struck a wave which burst over the bows,
scattering spray to the roof of the cabin.


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