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Her eyes looked out of the window
over the restless sea.
"Why not?" she asked.
"He is, I should think, a man that women might fall in love with."
"Oh, yes--he is amazingly handsome and there are fine thoughts in
him."
Mark felt disposed to warn her but felt that any counsel from him
would be an impertinence. She seemed to read his mind, however.
"I shall never marry again," she said.
"Nobody would dare to ask you to do so--nobody who knows all that
you have been called to suffer. Not for many a long day yet, I
mean," he answered awkwardly.
"You understand," she replied and took his hand impulsively. "There
is a great gulf I think fixed between us Anglo-Saxons and the
Latins. Their minds move far more swiftly than ours. They are more
hungry to get everything possible out of life. Doria is a child in
many ways; but a delightful, poetical child. I think England rather
chills him; yet he vows there are no rich women in Italy. He longs
for Italy all the same. I expect he will go home again presently.


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