'She will give me news of you. I suppose I must not send you a message by her. That would be against the rules!'
'The message might be!' Sister Giovanna actually smiled again. 'But if it is not, there is no reason why she should not bring me a greeting from you.'
'But not a letter?'
'No. I would not take it from her. It would have to be given to the Mother Superior. If she were willing to receive it at all, it would be her duty to read it, and she would judge whether it should be given to me or not.'
'Is that the rule?' Giovanni asked, more indifferently than she had expected.
'Yes. It is the rule in our order. If it were not, who could prevent any one from writing to a nun?'
'I was not finding fault with it. I must not keep you standing here any longer. If you will not sit down and talk a little more, I had better be going.'
'Yes. You have been here long enough, I think.'
He did not press her. He was so submissive that if he had begged permission to stay a few minutes more she would have consented, and she wished he would, when she saw him holding out his hand to say good-bye; but she was too well pleased at having dominated his wild temper to make a suggestion which might betray weakness in herself.
She took his hand and was a little surprised to find it as cold as hers had been when he came; but his face was not pale—she forgot that five years of Africa had bronzed it too much for paleness—and he was very quiet and collected. She went to the door of the hall with him and opened it before he could do so for himself.