"Nothing, except the questions. She wanted me to tell her whether I had ever met or heard anything of his bride."
"I suppose you didn't give her much satisfaction?"
"Not much, my Principino. I could not, if I would. But I did say that I believed they were expected in ten days or a fortnight. I hope I was not indiscreet?"
"Not at all. Only—but it doesn't matter."
"Then, if it doesn't matter, let us turn to a subject nearer our hearts. The favour you wished to ask? Which you may consider granted."
After all, it was not quite as easy to explain as Vanno had thought, in his moments of exaltation on the mountain. But he was still determined to carry out his plan.
"You know, Father, when I was a little boy I used to talk with you about what I should do when I grew up, and how I should never fall in love with any girl, no matter how beautiful, unless she had eyes like my favourite stars? How you used to laugh about those 'eyes like stars!' Yesterday I saw a girl in a train at Marseilles. I got into the train, meaning to follow her, no matter how far. It was not like me to do that."
"Pardon me. I think it was," chuckled the curé. "You would always act on impulse, you man of fire—and ice."
"Well, she got off at Monte Carlo, where I myself wanted to stop. I thought that was great luck, at first. I turned over in my mind ways of making her acquaintance. I believed it would be hard to do, but I meant to do it. Now, I'm not sure—not sure of anything about her. I'm not even sure whether I want to know her or not. The favour I have to ask is, that you help me to judge—and help her, if you have to judge harshly."
"I?"