"Then why was it you came?" she asked, unable not to give Mitsos the opportunity her heart knew he would not take.
He frowned.
"Why? Why?" he repeated. "Was there not reason enough, and are not the reasons justified? Or"—and he smiled—"or shall I make pretty speeches to you?"
"The Virgin defend me!" said the Capsina, with leaden calmness, again shrinking from what she had encouraged. "But you are absurd, little Mitsos. Are you to go home to—what is her name?—to Suleima empty-handed, and have no fairing for her and the baby?"
"Oh, Suleima wants no presents," said he.
"You mean she will be so happy when she sees you that—Oh, saints in heaven!" she broke off.
Then, as Mitsos stared at her with the quiet, habitual wonder with which he regarded her sudden outbursts as common phenomena:
"You think she will be so pleased to see you she will have no thought for aught else?"
Mitsos blew out a great blue cloud of smoke before he replied.
"It is thus," he said. "Had Suleima been away all this time, what, think you, should I have cared what she brought me so long as she brought herself? And I think—yes, I think it is not different with her."