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Updated: May 20, 2025
Everything before this day had been a dream. "Do you know," she said, "why I came here I mean, why the curé asked me? He told me that I must come and 'save' you. As if I could! It was I who needed saving." "He knew," Vanno answered, speaking more to himself than to her, "that we should save each other." As he spoke, a foot ostentatiously rattled the gravel of the path, at a safe distance.
With this girl whom Vanno had met at Monte Carlo it was different. She was not discreet. Whatever else she might be, she was not Puritan. She was gossiped about on all sides, and gayly fed the fire of gossip by appearing in startling dresses, by doing startling things, and picking up extraordinary acquaintances. Even as far away as Mentone and Nice she was talked about.
Yet perhaps not strange, for each may have sent a thought into the brain of the other if such things can be." "Such things are," Vanno answered, with passion.
The room, long unused and but superficially heated, became cold with the harsh, relentless cold of a vault. Mary's body lost its warmth, and grew chill as marble. When she was ready to write she could scarcely move her hands, but she warmed her fingers by breathing upon them, and at last began her letter to Vanno. Your brother will explain, in his way.
And I hope that I may never see you or Angelo again. Let your own soul punish you, while you live." "Are we to go?" asked Peter. "Yes," Vanno said. They went out together, and left Marie staring after them. For a little while she was safe. All this time Jim Schuyler's motor had been waiting.
In a moment Vanno had climbed on to the top of the car, had swung himself over the gate, and dropped down on the other side. The chauffeur, who, like most of his countrymen, hated to be made conspicuous, rejoiced that this was accomplished when the road was empty. He would not have enjoyed being stared at even by a peasant in a cart. Peter was out in the road, watching Vanno's manoeuvres.
Still Vanno was happy, as he had not been since he saw Mary dining alone in the restaurant of the Hôtel de Paris. He had made a plan for the next hours, which gave him hope for the future. After breakfast, he walked into the gray and ancient mountain-village of La Turbie, whose old houses and walls of tunnelled streets were built from the wreckage of Cæsar's Trophy.
She believed that no one who knew her face had seen her in the carriage, driving to Italy. She was more safely hidden than if she had come to the Château Lontana by train; and she had told Vanno and others that she disliked the idea of living in Hannaford's house.
Without another glance at the table, or a flicker of the lashes at Vanno, she turned away; and after a whispered word or two in Lord Dauntrey's ear, Eve went with her, in the direction of the Salle Schmidt. Vanno had an immediate impulse to rise, but common sense forbade.
If you've known her since the beginning of things, you should have known by instinct what she was, down under the surface frivolities and foolishnesses, mistakes any untaught girl might make." This Vanno, who was all man and not prince, said that no punishment could be too severe for one who doubts where he loves.
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