She waved her fan gaily.
“But nowadays we don’t even believe in Hades!”
“Ah, but it is always Paradise when with you, Cara Anna,” he murmured somewhat bromidically.
She looked up into his face.
“You are always so good, Vittorio! I—I’m afraid I don’t deserve it.” She paled a little beneath the earnest gaze of the red-brown eyes.
He laughed indulgently beneath his breath.
“How is that, don’t deserve it? But what has entered into you, dear lady, since your return from the mountain? Have you met a god that you are so uncharacteristically humble?”
Failing to meet her eyes, his own became suddenly troubled. Had Anne perhaps indeed received the coup de foudre which he had been dreading all these years?
“Do fallen gods dwell upon the mountain-tops?” There was a trace of uncertainty in Anne’s smile. Her eyes grew misty as the pale obsessive silhouette rose once more between them. “And if I had?” she challenged.
His lids veiled sudden apprehension.