ply, with
indeed the almost incredible simplicity of man, never to be shared by
any woman, to assume and to feel, when with Hermione, that he was the
dominant spirit of the two, that she was, very rightly and properly, and
very happily for her, leaning comfortably upon his strength. And in his
wonder he knew that the real dominance strikes its roots in the heart,
not in the head.

"You were strong, then, and you were strong, you were wonderfully
strong, when--afterwards. On Monte Amato--that evening--you were
strong."

His mind went to that mountain summit. The eyes of his mind saw the
evening calm on Etna, and then--something else, a small, fluttering
fragment of white paper at his feet among the stones. And, as if her
mind read his, she spoke again, still in that low, cold, and inexorable
voice.

"That piece of paper you found--what was it?"

"Hermione--Hermione--it was part of a letter of yours written in Africa,
telling him that we were coming to Sicily, the day we were coming."

"It was that!"

The voice had suddenly changed. It struggled with a sob. It sank away
in a sob. The sin--that she could speak of with a sound of calm. But all
the woman in her was stricken by the thought of her happy letter treated
like that, hated, denied, destroyed, and thrown to the winds.

"My letter! My letter!"

"Hermione!"

His heart spoke in his voice, and he made a step forward in the
darkness.

"Don't!"

The voice had changed again, had become sharp, almost cutting. Like the
lash of a whip it fell upon him. And he stopped at once. It seemed to
him as if she had cried out, "If you dare to give me your pity I shall
kill you!"

And he felt as if just then, for such a reason, she would be capable of
such an action.

"I will not--" He almost faltered. "I am not--coming."

Never before had he been so completely dominated by any person, or by
any fate, or by anything at all.

There was again a silence. Then he said:

"You are strong. I know you will be strong now. You can't go against
your nature. I ought to have realized that as I have not realized it. I
ought to have trusted to your strength long ago."

If he had known how weak she felt while she listened to him, how her
whole being was secretly entreating to be supported, to be taken hold of
tenderly, and guarded and cared for like a child! But he was a man. And
at one moment he understood her and at another he did not.

"Gaspare and I--we wished to spare you