“Hasn’t it been?” she asked him.
Antony looked at her.
“For me, yes,” he replied steadily.
“Can a friendship be one-sided?” she demanded. She emphasised the word a little.
“I don’t know,” said Antony whimsically. “I don’t know much about them. I haven’t ever wanted one before.”
Again there was a little silence. Then:
“Thank you,” said the Duchessa.
Antony drew a long breath. They were such simple little words; and yet, to him, they meant more than the longest and most flowery of speeches. There was so infinitely more conveyed in them. And he knew that, if they had not been meant, they would not have been spoken. She did think his friendship worth while, and she had given him hers. It was all his heart dared ask at the moment, yet, deep within it, his secret hope stirred to fuller life. And then, suddenly, prompted by some instinct, quite unexplainable at the moment, he put a question.
“What is the foundation of friendship?” he asked.
“Trust,” she responded quickly, her eyes meeting his for a moment. “And here,” she said, looking towards the hotel, “comes our lunch.”