She remembered both her father and Gaetano. Should this man be the third that she—
She stood silent and struggled with herself. At last the jettatore spoke:—
“Well, signora, is it not true that now you have had enough of me?”
Donna Micaela made a negative gesture.
“Do you not desire me to return to my cell?”
“I do not understand you, signor.”
“Yes, yes, you understand. Something terrible has happened to you to-day. You do not look as you did this morning.”
“I am very tired,” said Donna Micaela, evasively.
The man came close up to her as if to force out the truth. Questions and answers flew short and panting between them.