It was as
though his ghost had risen out of the earth and embraced her. Then
the wild look shivered like a mask and vanished, her features
softened and the colour rose to her cheeks for an instant. Very
slowly she drew him towards her, her eyes fixed on his; their lips
met in a long, sweet kiss--then her strength forsook her and she
swooned away in his arms.
Gouache supported her tenderly until she sat leaning against the
wall, and then knelt down by her side. He did not know what to do,
and had he known, it would have availed him little. His instinct
told him that she would presently recover consciousness and his
emotions had so wholly overcome him that he could only look at her
lovely face as her head rested upon his arm. But while he waited a
great fear began to steal into his heart. He asked himself how
Faustina had come to such a place, and how her coming was to be
accounted for. It was long past midnight, now, and he guessed what
trouble and anxiety there would be in her father's house until she
was found. He represented to himself in quick succession the
scenes which would follow his appearance at the Palazzo
Montevarchi with the youngest daughter of the family in his arms--
or in a cab, and he confessed to himself that never lover had been
in such straits.
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