“Would I do it?” he repeated. “Look at her!”
There was no need for further explanations; in saying that he had said all. Marcone turned and looked across the room.
She had not moved since their conversation began. There was no doubt, no fear, even no grief in her face; there was nothing in it but the shadow of death. The smuggler's eyes filled with tears as he looked at her.
“Make haste, Michele!” he said, throwing open the verandah door and looking out. “Aren't you nearly done, you two? There are a hundred and fifty things to do!”
Michele, followed by Gino, came in from the verandah.
“I am ready now,” he said. “I only want to ask the signora——”
He was moving towards her when Martini caught him by the arm.
“Don't disturb her; she's better alone.”
“Let her be!” Marcone added. “We shan't do any good by meddling. God knows, it's hard enough on all of us; but it's worse for her, poor soul!”