He was so engrossed that he did not hear a step in the road behind him. Josephus heard it, however, and gave vent to a faint whine, raising his head from between his paws. The sound roused Antony, and he turned.
His face went suddenly white beneath its bronze. The Duchessa di Donatello was standing at the gate, looking over into the garden.
“Might I come in and rest a moment?” she asked. “The sun is so hot.”
Antony could hardly believe his ears. Surely he could not have heard aright? But there she was, standing at the gate, most evidently waiting his permission to enter.
He left his spade sticking in the earth, and went to unfasten the gate. Without speaking, he led the way up the little flagged path, and into the parlour.
The Duchessa crossed to the oak settle and sat down. Slowly she began to pull off her long crinkly doe-skin gloves. Antony watched her. He saw the gleam of a diamond ring on her hand. It was a ring he had often noticed. A picture of the Duchessa sitting at a little round table among orange trees in green tubs flashed suddenly and very vividly into his mind.
“It is very hot,” said the Duchessa looking up at him.
“Yes,” said Antony mechanically.
“Am I interrupting your work?” asked the Duchessa.
Antony started.