uelly intent upon her painful effort to come out of
darkness into--perhaps a greater darkness?

"Ruffo says so. Ruffo told me so."

"Boys say anything."

"Do you mean it is not true?"

Maddalena's face was now almost devoid of expression. She had set her
knees wide apart and planted her hands on them.

"Do you mean that?" repeated Hermione.

"Boys--"

"I know it is true. You knew Gaspare in Sicily. You come from
Marechiaro."

At the mention of the last word light broke into Maddalena's face.

"You are from Marechiaro. Have you ever seen me before? Do you remember
me?"

Maddalena shook her head.

"And I--I don't remember you. But you are from Marechiaro. You must be."

Maddalena shook her head again.

"You are not?"

Hermione looked into the long Arab eyes, searching for a lie. She met
a gaze that was steady but dull, almost like that of a sulky child, and
for a moment she felt as if this woman was only a great child, heavy,
ignorant, but solemnly determined, a child that had learned its lesson
and was bent on repeating it word for word.

"Did Gaspare come here early this morning to see you?" she asked, with
sudden vehemence.

Maddalena was obviously startled. Her face flushed.

"Why should he come?" she said, almost angrily.

"That is what I want you to tell me."

Maddalena was silent. She shifted uneasily in her chair, which creaked
under her weight, and twisted her full lips sideways. Her whole body
looked half-sleepily apprehensive. The parrot watched her with supreme
attention. Suddenly Hermione felt that she could no longer bear this
struggle, that she could no longer continue in darkness, that she must
have full light. The contemplation of this stolid ignorance--that yet
knew how much?--confronting her like a featureless wall almost maddened
her.

"Who are you?" she said. "What have you had to do with my lie?"

Maddalena looked at her and looked away, bending her head sideways till
her plump neck was like a thing deformed.

"What have you had to do with my life? What have you to do with it now?
I want to know!" She stood up. "I must know. You must tell me! Do you
hear?" She bent down. She was standing almost over Maddalena. "You must
tell me!"

There was again a silence through which presently the tram-bell sounded.
Maddalena's face had become heavily expressionless, almost like a face
of stone. And Hermione, looking down at this face, felt a moment of
impotent despair that was succ