'This is the end of our journey?' she asked.
'For some days—if the place does not displease you.'
'How could I be ill at ease in the house of Basil's friend, and with the promise that Basil will soon come?'
Marcian stared at the face of Proserpine, who seemed to regard him with solemn thoughtfulness.
'Had you any forewarning of your release from the monastery?' he asked of a sudden.
'None. None whatever.'
'You thought you would remain there for long to come?'
'I had not dared to think of that.'
Marcian took a few paces, glanced at the sweet face, the beautiful head with its long golden hair, and came back to his place by the candelabrum, on which he rested a trembling hand.
'Had they spoken of making you a nun?'