"From the look on your forehead," she said softly, "you have lived long in your cell, since last we met! So it was meant, I think, from the beginning!"
"Assuredly so it was meant," he replied. "But I am very sorrowful, for I see not what was meant for you!"
She smiled at him, as if to reassure.
"If Fate has guided my life ill, not yours the fault," she said soothingly.
In her, reserve still obtained, yet without a trace of her late perplexing defiance. Asperity had given way to a great gentleness.
"Yet," Francesco hesitated,—"I am tormented by one thought: that for you it had perchance been better, if—"
He paused with drooping eyes, then continued:
"I could not profit by the dispensation of Clement and remain a true man. But you—" and again he paused.
A flash of her old-time perverseness lighted up Ilaria's sad eyes.
"Why pause?" she asked, arching her brow. "You mean that which is moral disaster for one, might be salvation for the other? And that, since my salvation should be dearer to you than your own—"