To Martini she said frankly that she had undertaken
to help the Gadfly with some "frontier
work." She had stipulated for the right to tell her
old friend this much, in order that there might be
no misunderstanding or painful sense of doubt and
mystery between them. It seemed to her that she
owed him this proof of confidence. He made no
comment when she told him; but she saw, without
knowing why, that the news had wounded
him deeply.
They were sitting on the terrace of her lodging,
looking out over the red roofs to Fiesole. After
a long silence, Martini rose and began tramping
up and down with his hands in his pockets, whistling
to himself--a sure sign with him of mental agitation.
She sat looking at him for a little while.
"Cesare, you are worried about this affair," she
said at last. "I am very sorry you feel so despondent
over it; but I could decide only as seemed
right to me."
"It is not the affair," he answered, sullenly;
"I know nothing about it, and it probably is all
right, once you have consented to go into it.
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