'Oh no,' she said hastily, and disengaged her hands and bent her head over Lucia's work. 'Dino.'
'Yes, dear.
'I wanted to ask you. There is just one thing.' She bent her face until it nearly touched the table. 'They tell me so, and I cannot contradict it,' she murmured; her sweet lips contracted and grew pale.
'What is it, dear? Tell me. Tell me, Italia.'
'Ah, there is no other woman whom you care for, then, at Rome?' Her voice was scarcely audible, and she turned her head from side to side without looking at him.
'Italia!'
He caught hold of her hands again, and forced her to meet his glance. 'Upon my honour—no! There is no other woman for me in all the world but you. And I love you, Italia,—I love you, I love you,' Dino said.
She bent her head a little. 'I did not know.' Then, still without looking at him, 'Now—I shall not be so unhappy, my Dino.'
Sora Lucia came as far as the doorway and looked in. 'You have found the bodice, Italia? Well, well, there is no hurry for it, none at all.'
'I'm coming, Lucia—directly.'