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"Vere!" he said. "Vere, do I disturb you?"
The girl turned softly on the bench and looked at him.
"No. I often come here. I like to be here at nightfall. Madre knows
that. Did she tell you?"
"No."
"You guessed?"
"I met Gaspare."
He stood near her.
"Where is Madre?"
"On the terrace. She preferred to stay quietly there. And so you have
been working very hard?"
He spoke gently, half smilingly, but not at all derisively.
"Yes. But how did you know?"
"I gathered it from something your mother said. Do you know, Vere, I
think soon she will begin to wonder what you do when you are shut up
for so long in your room."
The girl's face looked troubled for a moment.
"She doesn't--she has no idea."
"Oh no."
Vere was silent for a while.
"I wonder if I ought to tell her, Monsieur Emile," she said at length.
"Tell her!" Artois said, hastily. "But I thought--"
He checked himself, suddenly surprised at the keenness of his own
desire to keep their little secret.


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