The Marchese Loria ordered tea, and the two newly made allies pretended to have no important more business than eating and drinking. But certain that nobody was within hearing distance, Loria squandered little time in frivolities. At any moment some one they knew might come in and interrupt their talk.
"You said that I looked 'very down,'" he began abruptly. "That is cool English for broken-hearted, no doubt. I'm half mad, I think, Lady Gardiner. For four nights I haven't slept; for three days I've scarcely eaten. You know why; there's no use in wasting words on explanation."
"You love her so much?" exclaimed Kate.
"I love her so much. You believe me?"
"Yes; for you have the reputation of being a rich man, and it can't be all a bubble, or you wouldn't buy eighty-pound presents—for gratitude, and rather premature gratitude at that."
"Ah! the gift hasn't been made yet."
"I fancy it will be made. And the principle is the same. You can't be a fortune-hunter, like many agreeable, titled countrymen of yours whom I have met."
"If a man began by seeking out Miss Beverly as a fortune-hunter, he would end by being her lover. She is the most beautiful girl on earth, and—the most maddening. I think I shall go mad if I am to lose her."
"How you Italians can love—and hate!"
"Yes, we can hate also, it is true. There is no half-way with us. Lady Gardiner, I used to think that you disliked me; but to-day you are different. I was as desperately in need of help as a drowning man, and I caught at the new look of kindness in your eyes, as such a man catches at a floating spar."