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And she had seen surely, also, the ministering
world of women gathered round about it, feeding it, lest it should
fail and be no more. And she had seen herself among them!
"Where can Vere have gone to?" he said.
There had been a pause. Neither knew how long it had lasted.
"I should not wonder if she is on the cliff," said Hermione. "She
often goes there at this hour. She goes to meet Ruffo."
The name switched the mind of Artois on to a new and profoundly
interesting train of thought.
"Ruffo," he began slowly. "And you think it wise--?"
He stopped. To-night he no longer dared frankly to speak his mind to
Hermione.
"I was at Mergellina the other day," he said. "And I saw Ruffo with
his mother."
"Did you. What is she like?"
"Oh, like many middle-aged women of the South, rather broad and
battered-looking, and probably much older in appearance than in
years."
"Poor woman! She has been through a great deal."
Her voice was quite genuine now. And Artois said to himself that the
faint suspicion he had had was ill-founded.


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