When they
met, they avoided each other's eyes, and each remained separately face
to face with the same trouble, while each had a trouble of his own with
which the other had nothing to do.
There was little or no change now from what had formerly been the daily
round. Again, as before, Taquisara carried his friend daily from his own
room to the large one in which Veronica and the Sicilian again fenced
almost every day. Sometimes, when it was fine and warm, Gianluca was
taken out upon the balcony for a couple of hours. He no longer suffered
in being moved; but his lower limbs were now completely paralyzed. He
hardly thought of the fact, in his constant and increasing happiness. It
was only when he saw the fencing that he sometimes looked down sadly at
his useless legs and thin hands, for fencing was the only exercise for
which he had ever cared. He had none of that sanguine vitality which
would have made such an existence intolerable to Taquisara, or even to
Veronica. With her beside him, or if he could not have her, with books
or conversation, he was not only contented, but happy. It must be
remembered, too, that he was not aware that his condition was hopeless
and that he might live a total cripple for many years to come. If he had
known that, he might have been less gay; not knowing it, married to the
woman he loved and looking forward to complete recovery, life was little
short of a paradise within sight of a heaven.
Veronica never tired of taking care of him, and one might have supposed
that she was satisfied with the prospect of nursing him all her life, or
all his.
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