“I am quite safe.”
But she dropped one hand to the shoulder of Gaspare.
The Marchesino moved, almost as if he were about to go away. Then he lit a cigarette and spoke to Hermione.
“You look tired, Signora. You feel the heat. It is much fresher outside, when one is walking. Here, under the prison walls, it is always like a furnace in summer. It is unwholesome. It puts one into a fever.”
Hermione looked at him, and saw a red spot burning on each side of his face near his cheek-bones.
“Perhaps it would be better to walk,” she said, doubtfully.
Her inclination was for movement, for her fatigue was combined with a sensation of great restlessness.
“What do you say, Vere?” she added.
“Oh, I should love to go among the people and see everything,” she answered, eagerly.
The Marchesino’s brow cleared.