She dropped her hand into his hesitatingly, and his fingers closed upon it. He looked at the fire a moment, and then back in her face.
‘Marcia,’ he said softly, ‘did you ever hear the Tuscan proverb, “The foes of yesterday become the friends of to-day and the lovers of to-morrow”?’
A quick wave of colour swept over her face, and a faint answering flush appeared in his. She drew her hand away and rose to her feet, with a light laugh that put the last few minutes ages away.
‘I’m afraid it’s getting late, and Aunt Katherine would be scandalized if she found her malaria patient waiting up for her. I will leave you to smoke in peace.’
Sybert rose and followed her into the hall. He chose a tall brass candlestick from the row on the chimney-piece, lighted it, and handed it to her with a silent bow.
‘Thank you,’ said Marcia, with a brief glance at his face. She paused on the landing and looked down. He was standing on the rug at the foot of the stairs, watching her with an amused smile.
‘Buona notte, Signor Siberti,’ she murmured.
‘Buona notte, signorina,’ he returned, with a little laugh. ‘Pleasant dreams!’
CHAPTER XVIII
‘Shall I do it high or low, ma’am?’