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And he said to himself:
"When I told Emile she was a woman I was right."
Their meeting was rather grave and formal, even a little stiff. The
Marchesino paid Vere two or three compliments, and she inquired
perfunctorily after his health, and expressed regret for his slight
illness.
"It was only a chill, Signorina. It was nothing."
"Perhaps you caught it that night," Vere said.
"What night, Signorina?"
Vere had been thinking of the night when he sang for her in vain.
Suddenly remembering how she and Monsieur Emile had lain in hiding and
slipped surreptitiously home under cover of the darkness, she flushed
and said:
"The night of the storm--you got wet, didn't you?"
"But that was long ago, Signorina," he answered, looking steadily at
her, with an expression that was searching and almost hard.
Had he guessed her inadvertence? She feared so, and felt rather
guilty, and glad when Giulia came in to announce that lunch was ready.
Hermione, when they sat down, feeling a certain constraint, but not
knowing what it sprang from, came to the rescue with an effort.


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