s, I suppose so."

"I will come for you, Signora."

Again she looked at him, and felt his deep loyalty to her, his strong
and almost doglike affection. And, feeling them, she was seized once
more by fear. The thing Gaspare hid from her must be something terrible.

"Thank you, Gaspare."

"A rivederci, Signora."

Was there not a sound of pleading in his voice, a longing to retain her?
She would not heed it. But she gave him a very gentle look as she turned
to walk up the hill.

At the top, by the Trattoria del Giardinetto, she had to wait for
several minutes before the tram came. She remembered her solitary dinner
there on the evening when she had gone to the Scoglio di Frisio to look
at the visitor's book. She had felt lonely then in the soft light of the
fading day. She felt far more lonely now in the brilliant sunshine of
morning. And for an instant she saw herself travelling steadily along
a straight road, from which she could not diverge. She passed milestone
after milestone. And now, not far off, she saw in the distance a great
darkness in which the road ended. And the darkness was the ultimate
loneliness which can encompass on earth the human spirit.

The tram-bell sounded. She lifted her head mechanically. A moment later
she was rushing down towards Naples. Before the tram reached the harbor
of Mergellina, on the hill opposite the Donn' Anna, Hermione got out.
Something in her desired delay; there was plenty of time. She would
walk a little way among the lively people who were streaming to the
Stabilimenti to have their morning dip.

In the tram she had scarcely thought at all. She had given herself to
the air, to speed, to vision. Now, at once, with physical action came an
anxiety, a restlessness, that seemed to her very physical too. Her body
felt ill, she thought; though she knew there was nothing the matter with
her. All through her life her health had been robust. Never yet had she
completely "broken down." She told herself that her body was perfectly
well.

But she was afraid. That was the truth. And to feel fear was specially
hateful to her, because she abhorred cowardice, and was inclined to
despise all timidity as springing from weakness of character.

She dreaded reaching Mergellina. She dreaded seeing this woman, Ruffo's
mother. And Ruffo? Did she dread seeing him?

She fought against her fear. Whatever might befall her she would remain
herself, essentially separate from all other beings an