"Miss Temple?" asked Lucio Sabini of the first lady, taking off his hat.
A serious face already touched by years turned to him. The lady replied in a low voice:
"No, sir." And turning towards her companion, she called out in English:
"Darling!"
The other came forward at once.
"Miss Temple?" asked Lucio Sabini again.
The young woman raised her eyes of purest blue, whence emanated a sweet light; a slight blush coursed beneath the transparent skin of her virginal face, and she replied:
"Yes, sir."
A long minute of silence followed. The three were standing near the beautiful, little, solitary cemetery, where had been sleeping in the high mountains for years, or months, or days, unknown men, women, and children; the flowers were hardly bowing over the stones, which were becoming even whiter in the sunset.
"I beg pardon," murmured Lucio, recovering his composure. "I have to restore you something, Miss Temple."