“For one single question’s answer longing,
Night I asked, and asked the daytime’s burning;
Watched the flight of birds, and swift clouds thronging,
In water strove to read the hot lead’s turning;
Leaves I counted plucked from many flowers,
Lured dark prophets forth, and sought their powers,
Till at last I called on Heaven above me:
‘Doth he love me still, as once he loved me?’”
She had hoped to get an answer to it. But it would serve her right if no answer came. It would serve her right if Gaetano despised her and thought her forward.
Yet she had meant no harm. The only thing she had desired had been to find out if Gaetano loved her.