Thank you very much. But we must not keep Don
Emilio listening to my supposed good deeds forever. So that's enough."
Vere reddened. Evidently she felt snubbed. She said nothing, but she
shot a glance of eager sympathy at Ruffo, who stood very simply
looking at Hermione with a sort of manly deference, as if all that she
said, or wished, must certainly be right. Then she moved quietly away,
pressing her lips rather firmly together, and went slowly towards the
house. After a moment's hesitation, Artois followed her. Hermione
remained by Ruffo, and Gaspare stayed doggedly with his Padrona.
Hermione wished he would go. She could not understand his exact
feeling about the fisher-boy's odd little intimacy with them. Her
instinct told her that secretly he was fond of Ruffo. Yet sometimes he
seemed to be hostile to him, to be suspicious of him, as of some one
who might do them harm. Or, perhaps, he felt it his duty to be on
guard against all strangers who approached them. She knew well his
fixed belief that she and Vere depended entirely on him, felt always
perfectly safe when he was near.
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