She hesitated and burst into tears.
"Because what, my poor child?" asked the nun, kindly.
"Because I love him so, and because I was afraid, if I did not meet him, in his desperation he would seek me out in face of you all!"
"Have you ever written to him since you have been in this school?"
"Never!"
"Has he ever written to you before?"
"You hold his first letter to me in your hand!"
"How was this letter delivered, by what means did it reach you?"
Her face one mass of crimson, trembling from head to foot, Zuleika told the whole story of her adventure at noon that day. How she had strayed from her companions without any definite intention; how she had seated herself within the screening branches of the elm to meditate; how she had heard the singular noise in the chestnut tree, and, finally, how the letter, fastened to a stone, had come fluttering over the wall and fallen at her feet.
The nuns glanced at each other, horrified and amazed at the audacity of the young Italian.