Teresina laughed a little.
"I shall certainly not tell you who he is," she said. "You can find that out for yourself, if you take the trouble."
"It is better not. Either Ruggiero or I might hurt him, and then there would be trouble."
"You, too?"
"Yes, I too." Bastianello spoke the words rather roughly and looked fixedly into Teresina's eyes. Since she did not love Ruggiero, why should he not speak? Yet he felt as though he were not quite loyal to his brother.
Teresina's cheeks grew red and then a little pale. She twisted the cord of the Venetian blind round and round her hand, looking down at it all the time. Bastianello stood motionless before her, staring at her thick black hair.
"Well?" asked Teresina looking up and meeting his eyes and then lowering her own quickly again.
"What, Teresina?" asked Bastianello in a changed voice.
"You say you also might do that man an injury whom I love. I suppose that is because you are so fond of your brother. Is it so?"
"Yes—and also—"