lenced by the voice of the heart, by the voices of the senses. She felt
as if she would like to go down on her knees to him and thank him for
having loved her, for loving her. Abasement would have been a joy to her
just then, was almost a necessity, and yet there was pride in her, the
decent pride of a pure-natured woman who has never let herself be soiled.

"Hermione," he said, looking into her face. "Don't speak to me like that.
It's all wrong. It puts me in the wrong place, I a fool and you--what you
are. If that friend of yours could hear you--by Jove!"

There was something so boyish, so simple in his voice that Hermione
suddenly threw her arms round his neck and kissed him, as she might have
kissed a delightful child. She began to laugh through tears.

"Thank God you're not conceited!" she exclaimed.

"What about?" he asked.

But she did not answer. Presently they heard Gaspare's step on the
terrace. He came to them bareheaded, with shining eyes, to ask if they
were satisfied with Lucrezia. About himself he did not ask. He felt that
he had done all things for his padrona as he alone could have done them,
knowing her so well.

"Gaspare," Hermione said, "everything is perfect. Tell Lucrezia."

"Better not, signora. I will say you are fairly satisfied, as it is only
the first day. Then she will try to do better to-morrow. I know
Lucrezia."

And he gazed at them calmly with his enormous liquid eyes.

"Do not say too much, signora. It makes people proud."

[Illustration: "HE ... LOOKED DOWN AT THE LIGHT SHINING IN THE HOUSE OF
THE SIRENS"]

She thought that she heard an odd Sicilian echo of Artois. The peasant
lad's mind reflected the mind of the subtle novelist for a moment.

"Very well, Gaspare," she said, submissively.

He smiled at her with satisfaction.

"I understand girls," he said. "You must keep them down or they will keep
you down. Every girl in Marechiaro is like that. We keep them down
therefore."

He spoke calmly, evidently quite without thought that he was speaking to
a woman.

"May I go to bed, signora?" he added. "I got up at four this morning."

"At four!"

"To be sure all was ready for you and the signore."

"Gaspare! Go at once. We will go to bed, too. Shall we, Maurice?"

"Yes. I'm ready."

Just as they were going up the steps into the house, he turned to take a
last look at the night. Far down below him over the terrace wall he saw a
bright, steady light.

"Is that on the