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Updated: May 14, 2025
There was a reluctance in his voice which surprised Taquisara. "You do not seem convinced," said the latter. "I wish there were another priest here," replied Don Teodoro, thoughtfully, and his clear eyes looked away, avoiding the other's direct glance. "Why?" inquired the Sicilian, with increasing astonishment. "It is a painful office to perform for a friend."
Still he clutched her hand. A quick thought crossed her mind. She had gone to the window for a moment, to fasten it back, and had seen Taquisara walking under the vines. He might be there. "Let me go to the window," she said, regaining her self-possession. "Taquisara may be on the bastion I saw him there. He will call Don Teodoro, and I shall not have to leave you."
"I am certainly not able to play with you," he answered. "And I shall wear a jacket next time." "You are wonderful," said Gianluca, still watching her with admiration. The storm had passed, and the rain was over. Before long the Duca and Duchessa would appear for tea, and Taquisara said that he would go for a walk. Veronica rang and had the room set in order again, and sat down by Gianluca.
Possibly the Duca and his wife were too much preoccupied about their son's condition to think seriously of what was taking place, but it was strange enough in its way, and Taquisara thought so as he looked on, and wondered what Neapolitan society would think if it could stand, as one man, in his place, and see with his eyes, knowing what he knew. But he had not much time for reflexion.
He was unlike the rest of us, even then. That was why we became friends because he was unlike me, I suppose." "Unlike in what way?" asked Veronica, still looking at the sea. "It is hard to explain. He is a man of ideals, a religious man, a good man." Taquisara smiled gravely. "That was enough to make him quite different from us all, was it not?" "I do not know," said the young girl.
The next morning, before he left his own room, Taquisara was with him, walking up and down and smoking while Gianluca drank his coffee. They had been discussing the accident of the previous evening, and Taquisara had laughed over it. But Gianluca was sad and grave. "I wish to ask you a question," he said, after a short silence.
They are here, and you will see if he is worse. I suppose you know that he suffers great pain when he is moved?" "No!" said Taquisara, anxiously. "I did not know it. I sometimes hear him draw his breath sharply once or twice but he never complains. I thought it hurt him a little." "It is agony," said the doctor. "He must be a very brave man."
You have heard his name often of late, I think, and you know him Gianluca della Spina." Veronica started a little, and again the colour came and went in her delicate face. "Yes," she said. "I I know him a little." "He loves you, Donna Veronica," Taquisara said, his voice softening almost to a whisper, for he did not wish Bianca Corleone to hear him.
"Why did you go out without seeing me this morning?" she asked in a hard tone. "And why did Taquisara come to see you early? You scarcely know him " "I certainly did not send for him," said Bosio, uneasily. "He did not come for nothing," retorted Matilde. "He is no friend of yours. He must have come for some particular reason."
The curate looked down now, and fingered the corner of his old book, in evident hesitation. "It is quite another thing to assist the poor." "I do not understand you," said Taquisara. "I suppose that priests have especial sensibilities of their own " "Sometimes sometimes," interrupted Don Teodoro, as though speaking to himself. "Yes I have especial sensibilities."
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