Tony jumped over the wall. He might have landed in the midst of a family party; but in so much luck was with him. He found the Farfalla bobbing at the foot of the water steps with Mr. Wilder and Miss Hazel already embarked. They were waiting for Constance, who had obligingly run back to the house to fetch the rainbow shawl (finished that afternoon) as Miss Hazel distrusted the Italian night breeze.
Constance stepped out from the door as Tony emerged from the bushes. She regarded him in startled surprise; he was still in some slight disarray from his encounter with the lieutenant.
“May I speak to you, Miss Wilder? I won’t detain you but a moment.”
She nodded and kept on, her heart thumping absurdly. He had received the letter of course; and there would be consequences. She paused at the top of the water steps.
“You go on,” she called to the others, “and pick me up on your way back. Tony wants to see me about something, and I don’t like to keep Mrs. Eustace and Nannie waiting.”
Giuseppe pushed off and Constance was left standing alone on the water steps. She turned as Tony approached; there was a touch of defiance in her manner.
“Well?”
He came to her side and leaned carelessly against the parapet, his eyes on the Farfalla as she tossed and dipped in the wash of the Regina Margarita which was just puffing out from the village landing. Constance watched him, slightly taken aback; she had expected him to be angry, sulky, reproachful—certainly not nonchalant. When he finally brought his eyes from the water, his expression was mildly melancholy.
“Signorina, I have come to say good bye. It is very sad, but tomorrow, I too—” he waved his hand toward the steamer—“shall be a passenger.”
“You are going away from Valedolmo?”