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Hichens, Robert Smythe, 1864-1950

"A Spirit in Prison"

Perspiration
stood on his forehead just under the thick and waving hair.
"Where have you been, Gaspare? Not to Naples in all this heat?"
"I have been to Mergellina, Signorina."
"Mergellina! Did you see Ruffo?"
"Si, Signorina."
There was something very odd about Gaspare to-day, Vere thought. Or
was she still not thoroughly awake? His eyes looked excited, surely,
as if something unusual had been happening. And they were fixed upon
her face with a scrutiny that was strange, almost as if he saw her now
for the first time.
"What is it, Gaspare? Why do you look at me like that?"
Gaspare turned his eyes away.
"Like what, Signorina? Why should I not look at you?"
"What have you been doing at Mergellina?"
She spoke rather imperiously.
"Nothing particular, Signorina."
"Oh!"
She paused, but he did not speak.
"Where did you see Ruffo?"
"At the harbor, Signorina."
"Tell me, Gaspare, do you like him?"
"Ruffo?"
"Yes."
"I do not dislike him, Signorina.


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