"We will go there," he said, "you and I and Gaspare—"
"And my father."
"All of us together."
"And if the signora is back?"
Maurice was conscious of a desire that startled him like a sudden stab from something small and sharp—the desire that on that day Hermione should not be with him in Sicily.
"I dare say the signora will not be back."
"But if she is, will she come, too?"
"Do you think you would like it better if she came?"
He was so close to her now that his shoulder touched hers. Their faces were set seaward and were kissed by the breath of the sea. Their eyes saw the same stars and were kissed by the light of the stars. And the subtle murmur of the tide spoke to them both as if they were one.
"Do you?" he repeated. "Do you think so?"