"Madre came back. She had been to Mergellina all alone. She was away
such a long time. When she came back I was in my room. I didn't know.
I didn't hear the boat. But my door was open, and presently I heard
some one come up-stairs and go into the boudoir. It was Madre. I know
her step. I know it was Madre!"
She reiterated her assertion, as if she anticipated that he was going
to dispute it.
"She stayed in the boudoir only a very little while--only a few
minutes. Oh, Monsieur Emile, but--"
"Vere. What do you mean? Did--what happened there--in the boudoir?"
He was reading from her face.
"She went--Madre went in there to--"
She stopped and swallowed.
"Madre took father's photograph--the one on the writing-table--and
tore it to pieces. And the frame--that was all bent and nearly broken.
Father's photograph, that she loves so much!"
Artois said nothing. At that moment it was as if he entered suddenly
into Hermione's heart, and knew every feeling there.
"Monsieur Emile--is she--is Madre--ill?"
She began to tremble once more, as she had trembled when she came to
fetch Gaspare from the nook of the cliff beside the Saint's Pool.
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