It seemed to her at that moment that she had lost Vere
in the dark, that she had lost Emile in the dark, that even Gaspare
was drifting from her in a mist of secrecy which he did not intend
that she should penetrate.
There was only Ruffo left.
He had no secrets. He threw no darkness round him and those who loved
him. In his happy, innocent song was his happy, innocent soul.
She listened, she leaned down, almost she stretched out her arms
towards the sea. And in that moment she knew in her mind and she felt
in her heart that Ruffo was very near to her, that he meant very much
to her, even that she loved him.
CHAPTER XXXIV
Artois left the island that night without speaking to Hermione. He
waited a long time. But she did not move to come to him. And he did
not dare to go to her. He did not dare! In all their long friendship
never before had his spirit bent before, or retreated as if in fear
from Hermione's. To-night he was conscious that in her fierce anger,
and afterwards in her tears, she had emancipated herself from him.
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