It seems an indiscretion to have noticed it, an
unpardonable impertinence to subject it to conjecture. In spite
of my abhorring the impulse of curiosity, the sweeping,
flaunting, swaggering handwriting of Pasquale worried me.
Judith came in, looking much as she had done on the occasion of
my last visit, worn and anxious, with a strange expression in her
eyes.
"I am sorry to have kept you waiting," she said, extending a
lifeless hand.
I raised it to my lips.
"I would have gladly waited all day to see you, Judith," I said.
"Really?"
She laughed in an odd way.
"And idle speech from me to you at the present time would be an
outrage," I answered. "I have passed through much since I saw
you last."
"So have I," said Judith. "More than you imagine. Well," she
continued as I bowed my head accepting the rebuke, "what have you
got so important to tell me?"
"Much," said I. "In the first place you must be aware of what
has happened, for I can't help seeing there a letter from
Pasquale."
She glanced swiftly at the desk and back again at me.
Pages:
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337