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Crawford, F. Marion (Francis Marion), 1854-1909

"Taquisara"

"How is he?"
she repeated, as he hesitated a moment.
"To me he seems no worse. He says that he feels better to-day. But there
is something, some change--something, I cannot tell what it is, since I
last saw him."
"Stay here--please stay in the house!" said Veronica. "He may need you."
While she was speaking she had gone to the door, and she went out
without looking back. A moment later, she was by Gianluca's side. She
saw that what Don Teodoro had said was true. There was an undefinable
change in his features since the previous day, and at the first sight of
it her heart stood still an instant and the blood left her face, so that
she felt very cold. She kept her back to the light, that he might not
see that she was disturbed, and while she asked him how he was, her
hands touched, and displaced, and replaced the little objects on the
small table beside him,--the book, the glass, the flowers in the silver
cup, the silver cigarette case, the things which, being quite helpless,
he liked to have within his reach.
"I really feel better to-day," he said, watching her lovingly, as he
answered her question. "I wish I could go out."
"You can be carried out upon the balcony in a little while," she said.
"It is too cool, yet. It was a cold night, for we are getting near the
end of August."
"And in Naples they are sweltering in the heat," he answered, smiling.
"It is beautiful here. I can see the mountains through the open window,
and the flowers tell me what the hillsides are like, in the sunshine.


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