She turned her head and glanced at him, smiling, as if she were sure of hearing something pleasant. To-day, in her pretty festa dress, she looked intended for happiness. Everything about her conveyed the suggestion that she was expectant of joy. The expression in her eyes was a summons to the world to be very kind and good to her, to give her only pleasant things, things that could not harm her.
"Maddalena, do you feel as if you had known me long?"
She nodded her head.
"Si, signore."
"How long?"
She spread out one hand with the fingers held apart.
"Oh, signore—but always! I feel as if I had known you always."
"And yet it's only a few days."
"Si, signore."
She acquiesced calmly. The problem did not seem to puzzle her, the problem of this feeling so ill-founded. It was so. Very well, then—so it was.