Don Clemente answered almost under his breath:
"Yes, signora, a kitchen-gardener from the monastery."
Both their faces were crimson, but they did not look at one another, and
each was conscious only of his and her own blush.
"Do you know who we are?" Noemi continued.
Don Clemente replied that he believed he knew. They must be the two
ladies Signora Selva expected. He thought she had mentioned her sister
and Signora Dessalle.
"Oh! you heard of us from my sister?"
At Noemi's words Don Clemente could not refrain from exclaiming:
"Then you are not Signora Dessalle?"
Noemi saw that the man knew. Therefore he had surely taken precautions,
and an unexpected meeting was not possible. She breathed freely again,
and in her feminine heart curiosity took the place of the anxiety of
which she was now relieved.
Don Clemente spoke to her of the tower, of the ancient arcades, of the
frescoes near the door of the church, while she wondered how he could be
brought to speak of Maironi. When he was showing her the procession of
little stone monks, she interrupted him thoughtlessly, to ask if souls,
tired of the world, disappointed and desirous of giving themselves to
God, often came to the monastery.
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