They faced one another across it, he flushed, eager, with love in his eyes, and on his lips; she blushing but not ashamed, her new-found joy in her eyes, and in the pose of her head.
"Anne!" he cried. "I know now! I know! I have seen and you cannot deceive me!"
"In what?" she said, a smile trembling on her lips. "And of what, Messer Claude, are you so certain, if you please?"
"That you love me!" he replied. "But not a hundredth part"—he stretched his arms across the table towards her "as much as I love you and have loved you for weeks! As I loved you even before I learned last night——"
"What?" Into her face—that had not found one hard look to rebuke his boldness—came something of her old silent, watchful self. "What did you learn last night?"
"Your secret!"
"I have none!" Quick as thought the words came from her lips. "I have none! God is merciful," with a gesture of her open arms, as if she put something from her, "and it is gone! If you know, if you guess aught of what it was"—her eyes questioned his and read in them if not that which he knew, that which he thought of her.
"I ask you to be silent."
"I will, after I have——"
"Now! Always!"