“Peppina,” Hermione said, “I’m going to ask you something, and I want you to tell me the truth without being afraid.”
“Si, Signora.”
“You remember, when I took you, I told you not to say anything to my daughter, the Signorina, about your past life, your aunt, and—and all you had gone through. Have you said anything?”
Peppina looked more frightened.
“Signora,” she began. “Madonna! It was not my fault, it was not my fault!”
She raised her voice, and began to gesticulate.
“Hush, Peppina. Now don’t be afraid of me.”
“You are my preserver, Signora! My saint has forgotten me, but you—”
“I will not leave you to the streets. You must trust me. And now tell me—quietly—what have you told the Signorina?”
And presently Peppina was induced to be truthful, and Hermione knew of the outburst in the night, and that “the foreign Signore” had known of it from the moment of its happening.