He sighed and turned from her, towards the door. It was the first perfectly natural expression of feeling that had escaped him, and it was little enough. But it touched her unexpectedly, and she felt a sort of pity for him which was hard to bear. That one audibly-drawn breath of pain did more to persuade her that he really loved her than all the words he had ever spoken. She called him back when his hand was already on the door.
'Tebaldo—wait a moment!' Her voice was suddenly kind.
He turned in surprise, and a softer look came over his drawn and tired features.
'I shall be very glad to see you when you come,' she said gently. 'I do not know why I hesitated—I did not mean to. Come whenever you like.'
She held out her hand, and he took it.
'You may think the worst you will of me, Aliandra,' he said. 'But do not think that I do not love you.'
'I believe you do,' she answered in the same gentle tone, and she pressed his hand a little.
Just as he was about to open the door, her eyes fell upon the rifle Francesco had left standing in the corner.
Take your brother's gun,' she said. 'I do not like to see it here. I am sad enough already.'