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Updated: June 17, 2025
"And I think she likes to see you. I know she does." "Si, Signore. The Signora is always glad when I come." He spoke without conceit or vanity, with utterly sincere simplicity. "Go to the house and ask to see her now Gaspare will take you." As he spoke he looked at Gaspare, and Gaspare understood. "Come on, Ruffo!"
"Ruffo Ruffo Ruffo!" She was summoning him with her mind. Perhaps he was among those bathing boys. She looked across the harbor to the rocks, and saw the brown body of one shoot through the shining air and disappear with a splash into the sea. Perhaps that boy was he how far away from her loneliness, her sadness, and her dread! She began to despair of finding him. "Barca! Barca!"
"Well, he began saying something about knowing friends of mine, or I didn't really listen very much, because Ruffo was telling me all about the sea and I thought it was all nonsense. He was absurdly complimentary first, you see! and so, when he began about friends, I only said 'good-night' again. And and I'm really afraid I turned my back upon him. And now he's a friend of yours. Monsieur Emile!
"Well," said the mother at last, "and what does Ruffo say for himself, Vere?" "Ruffo? Oh, I don't know." She paused, then added: "I think he has rather a hard time, do you know, Madre?" Hermione had taken off her hat. She laid it on a table and sat down. She was feeling tired. "But generally he looks so gay, so strong. Don't you remember that first day you saw him?" "Ah then!"
She had put herself in his hands. And he he had striven to delegate to others the burden he was meant to bear. He had sent Vere to Hermione. He had sent Gaspare to her. He had even sent Ruffo to her. Now he must go himself. Vere, Gaspare, Ruffo they were all looking to him. But Gaspare's eyes were most expressive, held more of demand for him than the eyes of the girl and boy.
"It might, perhaps, have arisen from the fact of my suspicion who Ruffo was, a suspicion that lately became a certainty. My suspicion, and latterly my knowledge, no doubt changed my manner made me anxious, perhaps, uneasy, made me watchful, made me often seem very strange to you. That alone might have caused a difference in our relations. But I think there was something else."
"Ruffo," she added, in a moment, "I want you to promise me something." "Si, Signora." "Don't speak to any one about the little talk we have had to-night. Don't say anything, even to Gaspare." "No, Signora." For a short time they remained together talking of other things. Hermione spoke only enough to encourage Ruffo. And always she was watching him.
"Am I to have nothing?" she thought. And a passion of secret anger woke up in her. "Am I to have nothing at all? May I not even speak to this boy, in whom I have seen Maurice for a moment because if I do I may disturb some childish gossip?" Her eyes gave to Artois a fierce rebuke. "I beg your pardon, Hermione," he said, hastily. "Of course if you really want to talk to Ruffo "
She divined the dangers of Naples for a lad with the blood bounding in his veins, and she dwelt upon the pride of man's strength, and how he should be careful to preserve it, and not dissipate it before it came to maturity. She did not speak very plainly, but Ruffo understood, and answered her with the unconscious frankness that is characteristic of the people of the South.
"I am sorry for that," she said "very sorry." "Si, Signora. There is trouble in our house." "What is it, Ruffo?" The boy hesitated to answer. He moved his bare feet on the bridge and looked down towards the boat. Hermione did not press him, said nothing. "Signora," Ruffo said, at last, coming to a decision, "my Patrigno is not a good man. He makes my mamma jealous. He goes after others."
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