"At five to-morrow, then. You had better not wear anything very new. The place where the statue lies is not a drawing-room, you know, and your frock may be spoilt."
"Very well."
She glanced at the clock, looked at Malipieri as if hesitating, and then rose.
"I shall go back to my room now," she said.
"Yes. It is better. They may come in at any moment." He had risen also.
Their eyes met again, and they smiled at each other, as they realized what they were doing, that they had been nearly an hour together, unknown to any one, and had arranged something very like a clandestine meeting for the next day. Sabina put out her hand.
"At five o'clock," she said again. "Good-night."
He felt her touch for the first time since they had met. It was light and elastic as the pressure of a very delicate spring, perfectly balanced and controlled. But she, on her side, looked down suddenly and uttered an exclamation of surprise.
"Oh! How rough your hand is!"
He laughed, and held out his palm, which was callous as a day-labourer's.