They descended, and she sent away the stable-man, and made Tebaldo go into the front room, leaving the door open, however, as she followed him. His anger disappeared when her manner changed. He took her hand and tried to make her sit down, but she smiled and shook her head.
'I cannot stay,' she said. 'But as for your having been kept out, that is really my father's doing. I suppose he is right, but I am glad to see you for a moment. I was afraid you had gone back to Rome.'
'Not without seeing you. But what absurd idea possesses your father—'
'Hush! Not so loud! The doors are open upstairs, too, and one hears everything.'
'Then I will shut the door—'
'No, no! Please do not! He would scold, for he would certainly know. Besides, you must go.'
'I do not understand you at all,' said Tebaldo, lowering his voice. 'The last time I saw you, you were just like yourself again, and now—I do not understand. You are quite changed.'
'No. I am always the same, Tebaldo.' Her voice was suddenly kind. 'I told you the whole truth in Rome, once for all. Why must I say it over again? Is it of any use?'
'It never was of any use to say it at all,' answered Tebaldo. You do not believe that I love you—'