"Surely there is nothing so wonderful in that," she said.
"No, not in seeing him; the wonder was in what I read in his face."
At this she was silent, while Ricordo went on:
"Yes, I saw love, hope, there—nay, more than hope, I saw what looked like conquest, certainty. Am I right, signorina?"
Again she felt the kind of mastery which his presence always exercised over her; but she determined not to yield to it. Rather, she was almost angry with him.
"I am at a loss to know why you should ask me what you saw in his face," she said.
"Because what I saw depends on you," he answered quietly.
"And what then, signore?"
"I know that, if I saw truly, you have spoken words of hope. I know that he believes you have given him reason to think himself a victor. That is why, signorina."
"Still, I can scarcely understand why such a matter can interest you, signore."