"I heard his voice at all events."
"It's a wonderful voice, isn't it? And you really heard him? Can it be possible?"
Elena, the sad figure in the background of these bright pathetic scenes, thought Roma was hoping for a reconciliation with Rossi. She hinted as much, and then the fierce joy in the white face faded away.
"Ah, no! I'm not thinking of that, Elena."
Her love was too large for personal thoughts. It had risen higher than any selfish expectations.
They helped her on to the loggia. The day was warm, and the fresh air would do her good. She looked out over the city with a loving gaze, first towards the Piazza Navona, then towards the tower of Monte Citorio, and last of all towards Trinità de' Monti and the House of the Four Winds. But she was seeing things as they would be when she was gone, not to Viterbo, but on a longer journey.
"Elena?"
"Well?"
"Do you think he will ever learn the truth?"
"About the denunciation?"