"Come,
Cecco," she said. "His Eminence will bless you
as the dear Lord blessed the children."
The Gadfly moved a step forward and stopped.
Oh, it was hard! All these outsiders--these pilgrims
and mountaineers--could go up and speak
to him, and he would lay his hand on their children's
hair. Perhaps he would say "Carino" to
that peasant boy, as he used to say----
The Gadfly sank down again on the step, turning
away that he might not see. If only he could
shrink into some corner and stop his ears to shut
out the sound! Indeed, it was more than any man
should have to bear--to be so close, so close that
he could have put out his arm and touched the
dear hand.
"Will you not come under shelter, my friend?"
the soft voice said. "I am afraid you are chilled."
The Gadfly's heart stood still. For a moment
he was conscious of nothing but the sickening
pressure of the blood that seemed as if it would
tear his breast asunder; then it rushed back, tingling
and burning through all his body, and he
looked up.
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