“Did we tell you we were going? I had forgotten.”
“It was not that, Signora. But I saw the Signorina at the Festa. Did not Don Gaspare tell you?”
“Gaspare said nothing. Did he see you?”
She spoke languidly. Quickness had died out of her under the influence of the night. But already she felt a slight yet decided sense of relief, almost of peace. She drew that from Ruffo. And, standing very close to him, she watched his eager face, hoping to see presently in it the expression that she loved.
“Did he see you, Ruffo?”
“Ma si, Signora. I was with my poor mamma.”
“Your mother! I wish I had met her!”
“Si, Signora. I was with my mamma in the Piazza of Masaniello. We had been eating snails, Signora, and afterwards watermelon, and we had each had a glass of white wine. And I was feeling very happy, because my poor mamma had heard good news.”
“What was that?”
“To-morrow my Patrigno is to be let out of prison.”