"I shall see you, but you will not see me till we meet on the landing."
"I knew you could manage it, if you only would."
"It is simple enough. There is not the slightest risk, if you will do exactly what I have told you."
It seemed easy indeed, and Cecilia was almost happy at the thought that she was soon to be freed from the intolerable situation into which she allowed herself to be forced. She was very grateful, too, and beyond her gratitude was the unspeakable satisfaction in the man she loved. Instead of making difficulties, he smoothed them; instead of prating of what society might think, he would help her to defy it, because he knew that she was right.
"I should like to thank you," she said simply. "I do not know how."
He seemed to say something in answer, in a rather discontented way, but so low that she could not catch the words.
"What did you say?" she asked unwisely.
"Nothing. I am glad to be of service to you. Say the right things to Guido; for you are going to do rather an eccentric thing in order to say them, and a mistake would be fatal."
He spoke almost roughly, but she was not offended. He had a right to be rough, since he was ready to do whatever she asked of him; yet not understanding him, while loving him, her instinct made her wish him really to know how pleased she was. She put out her hand a little timidly and touched his, as a much older woman might have done. To her surprise, he grasped it instantly, and held it so tightly that he hurt her for a moment. He dropped it then, pushing it from him as his hold relaxed, almost throwing it off.
"What is the matter?" Cecilia asked, surprised.