"You don't mean to forgive me!" she said, separating herself from him. But already he had turned and pressed her to him, his lips seeking hers with a fervour which seemed rather of despair than of passion.
Adamo's voice rang out from the bank.
"Antonio—o! Regina—a!"
Then Petrin's broad back swayed from right to left, and his whip cracked.
"Quel ragass m'ha fatto ciappar pagura (That boy made me jump)," said the man, as if talking in his sleep. Antonio and Regina moved apart, and she blushed in the darkness as if new to love.
Her heart was beating strongly, but between its strokes of joy were shudders of sickening grief.
After supper, as on the night of Regina's arrival, they all went out, except Signora Caterina. Toscana and her brothers ran about as usual, leaving their sister and her husband far behind.
"Yes," said Regina; "my mother is right. You look ill! Surely you've been having fever!"
He did not answer at once. He was thinking. He seemed seeking an appropriate beginning for a speech and unsuccessful in finding it.
"Your mother herself looks out of sorts," he said at last. "What distress you must have caused her, Regina!"