"For Heaven's sake," he pleaded, "do not ask these questions?"
"Answer me at once. Is she prettier than I am? In England they call me pretty. I suppose I'm ugly to a Portuguese. I suppose she's a hundred times more beautiful than I am."
"There are different kinds of beauty," said Antonio.
"Is she clever?"
Antonio considered well. Then he replied:
"In Her case I should not use the word 'clever.' But, I entreat you, ask me no more."
He rose to his feet with a look which silenced her. A moment afterwards she too sprang up. Stepping quickly to the pool, she dipped her little handkerchief in the laughing water and tried to bathe away the traces of her tears. When she sailed back towards him she came proudly.
"This ought to be the end," she said. "I ought not to see you alone again. But I don't forbid you to come just once more. Perhaps I shall be here to-morrow morning. I don't say I shall, and I don't say I shan't."
Her steady gaze commanded an answer: but it was only by a huge effort that Antonio succeeded in replying:
"You have spoken truly. We ought not to meet alone again."