'It is love,' he said, and his red lips gave the word a sensuous sound, as they came nearer to her face.
She did not hear him. The rich colour in her face faded all at once, and then with a sharp cry she stood upright, pushing him away from her.
'I saw a hand on the window sill!' she exclaimed. 'It is gone again.'
Francesco rose also. He was annoyed at the untoward interruption, for he fancied that the hand must have belonged to some boy in the street, playing outside and climbing up a little way to jump down again, as boys do.
'It is ridiculous!' he said in a tone of irritation, and going to the window.
He looked down between the blinds that were ajar, expecting to see a peasant boy. Instead, there was Tebaldo Pagliuca's face, yellow in the sun, as though he had a fever, and Tebaldo's bloodshot eyes looking up to his, and the thin, twisted lips smiling dangerously.
'Come outside,' said Tebaldo, in an odd voice. 'I want to speak with you.'
But Francesco only heard the first words. His abject terror of his brother overcame him in an instant, and he almost ran into Aliandra's arms as he sprang back.
'It is Tebaldo!' he whispered. 'Let him in. Keep him here, while I go away through the stable-yard!'