It was opened very quickly, as if by some
one who was on the watch, expectant of an arrival.
"Chi e?" cried a female voice.
And, almost simultaneously, a woman appeared with eyes that stared in
inquiry.
By these eyes, their shape, and the long, level brows above them,
Hermione knew that this woman must be Ruffo's mother.
"Good-morning, Donna Maddalena," said Fabiano, heartily.
"Good-morning," said the woman, directing her eyes with a strange and
pertinacious scrutiny to Hermione, who stood behind him. "I thought
perhaps it was--"
She stopped. Behind, in the doorway, appeared the head of a young
woman, covered with blue-black hair, then the questioning face of an
old woman with a skin like yellow parchment.
"Don Antonio?"
She nodded, keeping her long, Arab eyes on Hermione.
"No. Are you expecting him so early?"
"He may come at any time. Chi lo sa?"
She shrugged her broad, graceless shoulders.
"It isn't he! It isn't Antonio!" bleated a pale and disappointed
voice, with a peculiarly irritating timbre.
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