She was sure she had known, or heard of, some girl in Sicily called Maddalena, some girl or some woman. She thought of the servants in the Casa del Prete, Lucrezia. Had she any sister, any relation called Maddalena? Or had Gaspare—?
Suddenly Hermione seemed to be on the little terrace above the ravine with Maurice and Artois. She seemed to feel the heat of noon in summer. Gaspare was there, too. She saw his sullen face. She saw him looking ugly. She heard him say:
“Salvatore and Maddalena, Signora.”
Why had he said that? In answer to what question?
And then, in a flash, she remembered everything. It was she who had spoken first. She had asked him who lived in the House of the Sirens.
“Salvatore and Maddalena.”
And afterwards—Maurice had said something. Her mind went in search, seized its prey.
“They’re quite friends of ours. We saw them at the fair only yesterday.”
Maurice had said that. She could hear his voice saying it.
“I’m rested now.”