"You must ask the gardener," Cecilia answered, in order to say something while a young couple passed before the bench, evidently very much absorbed in each other's conversation.
Guido bent forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and not looking at her, but turning his face a little, so that he could speak in a very low tone with an outward appearance of carelessness. It was very hard to put the question, after all, now that he was so near her, and felt her thrilling presence.
"Our agreement is a failure," he began. "At all events, it is one on my side. I really did not think it would turn out as it has."
She said nothing, and he knew that she did not move, and was looking at the people in the distance. He knew, also, that she understood him and had expected something of the sort. That made it a little easier to go on.
"That is the reason why I am going to ask you this question. What has there ever been between you and Lamberti? Why do you turn deathly pale when you meet him, and why does he try to avoid you?"
He heard her move now, and he slowly turned his face till he could see hers. The colour in her cheeks had deepened a little, and there was an angry light in her eyes which he had never seen there. But she said not a word in answer.
"Do you love him?" Guido asked in a very low tone, and his voice trembled slightly.
"No!" The word came with sharp energy.
"How long have you known him?" Guido enquired.
"Since I have known you. I met him first on the same day. I have not spoken with him since. I tried to-day, I could not."