"I beg your pardon," he answered. "I think I shall be obliged to go back this afternoon."
"Has he any engagement that obliges him to return?" asked Veronica of
Gianluca.
As she turned to him, she met his deep blue eyes, fixed on her face with a strange look, half happy, half hungry, half appealing.
"He has no engagement that I know of," he answered.
"Then you will stay," she said to Taquisara. "Go on!" she added to the coachman, without giving time for any further answer.
There was a note in her short speech which the Sicilian had never heard before then. It was the tone of command—not of the drill-sergeant, but of the conqueror. He almost laughed to himself as the carriage moved slowly on, while Veronica and Don Teodoro followed on foot.
"You must stay, if she wishes it," said Gianluca, in a low voice.
"I am not used to being ordered to quarters in that way," answered Taquisara, smiling in genuine amusement. "I can be of no more use to you when I have got you up to your room, and I think I shall go back as I intended."
"I would not, if I were you. After all, it is a hospitable invitation, and you cannot invent any reasonable excuse for refusing to stay at least one night. The horses are worn out, too. You have no pretext."
"Perhaps not. I will see."