"You! You!" she stammered in surprise, clutching together the folds of her night-dress at the neck.
"Yes, I," he answered. "You did not think that was all the good-night I should ask for, did you?"
He used the familiar "tu," instead of the "Lei" he had always addressed her with heretofore. That and something rough in his voice alarmed her, a sudden fear froze her veins but she hid it, and said with well assumed calm,
"Egidio dear, it is good of you to say good-night again. You thought I would feel lonely?"
"Yes," he answered grimly, "I thought you would be lonely, so I have come to keep you company. Make room for me beside you, dear."
"Oh!" she laughed with a catch in her throat, "I am not so lonely as all that! I am quite sleepy—I shall sleep very well indeed. Good-night Egidio!"
He bent forward and she raised her cheek, but he kissed her on the mouth and as his lips touched hers his arms went around her and pressed her to him.
"Oh, no!" she panted, "oh, no! no! Not that, Egidio, not that! You said you would be a friend to me, a brother, nothing more!"
"I was a fool then," he muttered, "and you were a fool if you believed I could marry you, a woman like you, and be no more than a brother!"
She struggled wildly to free herself, but he clasped her tight, and forcing her hands away from his chest where she had braced them, said angrily: