"Yes," said Sabina, once more, but this time she looked at Malipieri.
"What is it that you wish to know, Signora?" he asked kindly, "Whether it is all exactly as my letter told you? Is that it?"
She turned to him with a look of reproach.
"Does a woman doubt a man who has done what you have done for me?" she asked. "I wanted to know something more—a little more than what you wrote to me. It would make a difference, perhaps."
"To you, Signora?" asked Sabina quickly.
"No. To you. Perhaps it would make a great difference in the way I should act." She paused an instant. "It is rather hard to ask, I know," she added shyly.
She seemed to be a timid little woman.
"Please tell us what it is that you wish to know, Signora," said
Malipieri, in the same kind tone, trying to encourage her.
"I should like to ask—I hardly know just how to say it—if you would tell me whether you are fond of each other—"
"What difference can that make to you, Signora?" Malipieri asked with sudden hardness. "You know that I shall not break my word."