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"
"No. Because he hasn't landed till to-night since the night of the
storm."
"I wonder why?" said Hermione.
She was interested; but she still felt tired, and the fatigue crept
into her voice.
"So do I," Vere said. "He had a reason, I'm sure. You're tired Madre,
so I'll go to bed. Good-night."
She came to her mother and kissed her. Moved by a sudden overwhelming
impulse of tenderness, Hermione put her arms round the child's slim
body. But even as she did so she remembered Vere's secret, shared with
Emile and not with her. She could not abruptly loose her arms without
surprising her child. But they seemed to her to stiffen, against her
will, and her embrace was surely mechanical. She wondered if Vere
noticed this, but she did not look into her eyes to see.
"Good-night, Vere."
"Good-night."
Vere was at the door when Hermione remembered her two meetings of that
evening.
"By-the-way," she said, "I met the Marchesino to-night. He was at the
Scoglio di Frisio."
"Was he?"
"And afterwards on the sea I met Emile.


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