She gave me a look--" His eyes clouded with moisture.
"If the poor Signora had not been mad she could not have looked at me
like that--at another, perhaps, but not at me."
It seemed as if at last his long reserve was breaking down. He put up
his hand to his eyes.
"I did not think that my Padrona--"
He stopped. Artois remembered the face at the window. He grasped
Gaspare's hand.
"The Signora does not understand," he said. "I will make the Signora
understand."
"Si, Signore, you must make the poor Signora understand."
Gaspare's hand held on to the hand of Artois, and in that clasp the
immense reserve, that for so many years had divided, and united, these
two men, seemed to melt like gold in a crucible of fire.
"I will make the Signora understand."
"And I will wait, Signore."
He pushed the boat off from the rocks. It floated away, with its
sister boat, on the calm sea that kissed the palace walls. He gave his
Padrona's fate into the hands of Artois. It was a tribute which had
upon Artois a startling effect.
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