“You never asked me,” she returned smiling.
“No,” agreed Antony. And then he added simply, as an afterthought, “it didn’t occur to me to ask you.”
“It wouldn’t,” responded the Duchessa, a little twinkle in her eyes.
“No,” agreed Antony again. “I wish those people hadn’t come in,” he added somewhat irrelevantly.
“What people?” demanded the Duchessa. “Oh, you mean those two men. Why not? Most tourists visit the church.”
“I dare say,” returned Antony. “But—well, they didn’t belong.”
“No?” queried the Duchessa innocently.
Antony reddened.
“You mean I didn’t,” he said a little stiffly.
“Ah, forgive me.” The Duchessa’s voice held a note of quick contrition. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. Somehow we Catholics get used to Protestants regarding our churches merely as a sight to be seen, and for the moment I smiled to think that you should be the one whom it irritated. But I do know what you mean, of course. And—I’m glad you felt it.”