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"
"Why shouldn't he know it? Do you think it
is not true?"
"I know it is not true."
"How do you know it?"
"Because he told me so."
"HE told you? Montanelli? Gemma, what do you mean?"
She pushed the hair back from her forehead and
turned towards him. They were standing still
again, he leaning on the balustrade and she slowly
drawing lines on the pavement with the point of
her umbrella.
"Cesare, you and I have been friends for all
these years, and I have never told you what really
happened about Arthur."
"There is no need to tell me, dear," he broke
in hastily; "I know all about it already."
"Giovanni told you?"
"Yes, when he was dying. He told me about
it one night when I was sitting up with him. He
said---- Gemma, dear, I had better tell you the
truth, now we have begun talking about it--he
said that you were always brooding over that
wretched story, and he begged me to be as good
a friend to you as I could and try to keep you
from thinking of it. And I have tried to, dear,
though I may not have succeeded--I have,
indeed.


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