He understood her hesitation and smiled bravely.
“So I did the right thing after all! Anne, dearest, don’t be afraid to tell me the truth. Are you happy at last?”
Words were beyond her for the moment. She nodded.
He sighed contentedly. “I am glad—so glad,” he breathed. “Are you married and have you children?” he continued with eager simplicity.
“Vittorio and I have been married for almost ten years,” she replied brokenly. “We have two little boys,” she added quickly.
Longing swept the drawn features. “How I should love to see them,” he sighed wearily.
“When you are better you must come to Florence and pay us a long visit,” she replied, trying to speak brightly.
He spread his hands, in careless fatalism. He smiled oddly. “When I am better? Yes, when I am better, I’ll come.”
“And bring the boy,” she continued, sturdily ignoring his implication. “What is his name?”
A light dawned back of the misery in his eyes. “Jack. Just a simple English name, as unlike his father’s as possible. And oh, Anne, he is unlike me. He cannot play a single musical instrument, although he has been surrounded by musicians all his life. He has no temperament at all. And he loves sports. He has won a lot of medals already. He isn’t even very good in his studies.”