Her
head was full of sealike noises.
Presently, from among these noises, one detached itself, pushed
itself, as it were, forward to attract forcibly her attention--the
sound of a boy's voice.
"Signora! Signora!"
"Signora!"
A hand touched her, gripped her.
"Signora!"
The shutter was sharply drawn back from her eyes, and she saw Ruffo.
He stood before her, gazing at her. His hair, wet from the sea, was
plastered down upon his brown forehead--as /his/ hair had been when,
in the night, they drew him from the sea.
She saw Ruffo in that moment as if for the first time.
And she knew. Ruffo had told her.
CHAPTER XXXVII
Hermione was outside in the street, hearing the cries of ambulant
sellers, the calls of women and children, the tinkling bells and the
rumble of the trams, and the voice of Fabiano Lari speaking--was it to
her?
"Signora, did you see him?"
"Yes."
"He is glad to be out of prison. He is gay, but he looks wicked."
She did not understand what he meant.
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