The boy’s brown face flushed, and into his eyes there came an expression of almost melting gentleness.
“Oh, Signora!” he said.
And there was a note of protest in his voice.
“Take them to her, Ruffo. And—and I want you to promise me something. Will you?”
“Si, Signora. I will do anything—anything for you.”
Hermione put her hand on his shoulder.
“Be very, very kind to your poor mother, Ruffo.”
“Signora, I always am good for my poor mamma.”
He spoke with warm eagerness.
“I am sure you are. But just now, when she is sad, be very good to her.”