"You have one correspondent who is deeply interested in your theories, and who sympathises keenly in all your religious views—" she went on, lowering her eyes—"a certain Madame Angele—"
He uttered a quick exclamation of pleasure.
"You know her?"
She looked up,—her eyes sparkled—and she laid a finger on her lips.
"Keep my secret!" she said—"I am so glad to meet you personally at last!"
He stared, bewildered.
"You—you . . . !"
"Yes. I!" and she smiled—"The mysterious and Christian-Democratic 'Angele' is Angela Sovrani. So you see we have been unconscious friends for some time!"
His face grew radiant, and he made a quick movement towards her.
"Then I owe you a great debt of gratitude!" he said—"For encouragement—for sympathy—for help in dark hours!—and how unworthy I have proved of your goodness . . . what must you think of me—you—so beautiful—so good—"