"I had dreamt something strange about you. It happened just where I found you."
"I dreamt the same dream, the same night. That is, I think it must have been the same."
She turned her face away, blushing red.
He saw, and understood.
"Yes," he said. "What am I to tell d'Este?" he asked, after a short pause.
"Nothing!" said Cecilia quickly, and the subsiding blush rose again. "Besides," she continued, speaking rapidly in her embarrassment, "he would not believe us, whatever we told him, and it is of no use to let him know—" she stopped suddenly.
"Has he no right to know?"
"No. At least—no—I think not. I do not mean—"
They were standing still, facing each other. In another moment she would be telling Lamberti what she had never told Guido about her feelings towards him. On a sudden she turned away with a sort of desperate movement, clasping her hands and looking over the low wall.
"Oh, what is it all?" she cried, in great distress. "I am in the dream again, talking as if I had known you all my life! What must you think of me?"