Gaspare opened his lips to speak, but Maurice did not give him time.
"I was there, too, in the fair."
"But of course you weren't looking at the train?"
"Of course not. And when Gaspare told me, it was too late to do anything.
We couldn't get back in time, and the donkeys were tired, and so----"
"Oh, I'm glad you didn't hurry back. What good would it have done then?"
There was a touch of constraint in her voice.
"You must have thought I should be in bed."
"Yes, we did."
"And so I ought to be now. I believe I am tremendously tired, but--but
I'm so tremendously something else that I hardly know."
The constraint had gone.
"The signora is happy because she is back in my country," Gaspare
remarked, with pride and an air of shrewdness.
He nodded his head. The faded roses shook above his ears. Hermione smiled
at him.
"He knows all about it," she said. "Well, if we are ever to go to
bed----"
Gaspare looked from her to his padrone.
"Buona notte, signora," he said, gravely. "Buona notte, signorino. Buon
riposo!"
"Buon riposo!" echoed Hermione. "It is blessed to hear that again. I do
love the clock, Gaspare."
The boy beamed at her and went reluctantly away to find the donkeys. At
that moment Maurice would have given almost anything to keep him. He
dreaded unspeakably to be alone with Hermione. But it had to be. He must
face it. He must seem natural, happy.
"Shall I put the clock down?" he asked.
He went to her, took the clock, carried it to the writing-table, and put
it down.
"Gaspare was so happy to bring it to you."
He turned. He felt desperate. He came to Hermione and put out his hands.
"I feel so bad that we weren't here," he said.
"That is it!"
There was a sound of deep relief in her voice. Then she had been puzzled
by his demeanor! He must be natural; but how? It seemed to him as if
never in all his life could he have felt innocent, careless, brave. Now
he was made of cowardice. He was like a dog that crawls with its belly to
the floor. He got hold of Hermione's hands.
"I feel--I feel horribly, horribly bad!"
Speaking the absolute truth, his voice was absolutely sincere, and he
deceived her utterly.
"Maurice," she said, "I believe it's upset you so much that--that you are
shy of me."