"When?"
"I can't tell. A month from now--two months at the longest."
"It would be very sweet to have you near," she said musingly, "for I am
lonely, very lonely, and with you I feel at rest, at peace in a way.
But something drives me, Signore, and I cannot promise. If you should
not forget, if you should wish to join hands with me, then I should
thank God and be very glad. But I sha'n't wish for it; that would be
unfair."
His voice shook as he said, "I am going to prove to you that your life
is not hopelessly wrecked, and to show you that there is something
worth living for."
She laid her two cool hands in his and looked deeply into his eyes, but
if she saw what lay in them she showed no altered feeling in her words
or tone.
"Martel would be glad to have you near me, I am sure," she said, "but I
shall only pray for your safety and your happiness in that far-off
America. Good-by."
He kissed her fingers, vowing silently to devote his whole life to her,
and finding it very hard to leave.