Zoë had played her little comedy because she had by this time guessed the man's character, and wished to make sure that she could rely on his help in anything she decided to do; for it was clear that whenever Zeno was absent, the secretary was in charge of the whole establishment, and the servants would obey him without hesitation. As Gorlias had told him, whatever he did was right in their eyes.
That he was in haste to do her bidding she discovered before the afternoon was half over, for as she sat in her window she saw him go down to wait for his master at the marble steps, and he walked slowly on the strip of black and white pavement by the water's edge.
At last he stood still, and looked towards Blachernæ, for the skiff was in sight. Zoë drew her veil across her face and rested her head against the right-hand side of the open window as if she were very tired, and she did not move from this position as the boat came near. Zeno was leaning back in the stern, and could not help seeing her as he approached the house, but from her attitude he thought she did not see him, and he looked up at her steadily for two or three seconds. She was quite motionless.
Omobono stood by the water's edge as Zeno stepped ashore, and asked permission to say a few words to him at once. Zeno dismissed the boat by a gesture.
'Has anything happened?' he asked, glancing up at the window again.
Zoë had not moved, but she could see him through her veil. Then the two men walked up and down, while Omobono spoke in a low tone, but though she could not hear the words she knew what the substance was. Then came Zeno's voice, cold and clear.
'Certainly not,' he said decidedly. 'I shall do nothing of the sort! If she has no appetite send for a doctor. Do you take me for one? Send for old Solomon the Jewish physician. He is the best, and he is an old man. If he says the girl needs air, take her out in the boat, her and the maids, on fine mornings.'
A question from Omobono followed, which Zoë could not hear distinctly. Zeno was evidently annoyed.
'Omobono, you are a good man,' he said; 'but you have no more sense than a cackling hen! Never think! It is not your strong point. When you do just what I tell you, you never make a mistake.'
The secretary's voice was heard again, low and indistinct.