Mae gazed at him in delight, and sprang up warmly,
holding out both her hot hands, "How is Heaven?" asked Bero, as he
raised the white fingers to his lips.
"That is not the custom with us," said Mae, withdrawing her hand.
"But what is custom in Heaven?" he laughed. "Can't we do as we please in
our Heaven, Signorina?"
"This isn't our Heaven, and I don't please. O, how could you let me come
to this dreadful place. Did you know how awful it would be?"
"Shall I tell you why I said nothing? Let me row you away from all
this," and he began to untie the boat.
"When did you come?" asked Mae,
"I left Rome last night, reached Naples this morning, and here I am as
soon as possible, Signorina."
Mae felt herself gradually yielding to the spell of this man's soft
power. She had grown strangely quiet and passive, and she folded her
hands and looked off seawards in a not unhappy way. She seemed to be
some one else in a strange dream.
"Are you glad I came?" asked Bero, as he jumped into the boat and sat
down opposite her.
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