Hurried steps were heard in the direction of Jenne. They stopped a short
distance from him. A little girl came towards Benedetto, timidly offered
him a bottle of water and a glass, and then turned and fled. Benedetto,
astonished, called her to him. She came slowly, shyly, and did not
answer when he asked her name, her parents' name. A voice said:
"She is the innkeeper's child."
Benedetto recognised the voice and the person also, though the moonlight
was pale; she had remained at a distance, prompted by the same sense of
delicacy which had moved her to bring the child with her.
"I thank you," said he. She came a little nearer, holding the child by
the hand, and asked softly:
"Do you know the priests have been talking to the dead man's mother? Do
you know the woman now accuses you of killing her son?"
Benedetto replied with some severity in his tone:
"Why do you tell me this?"
She saw she had displeased him by repeating this accusation, and
exclaimed in distress;
"Oh! forgive me!"
Presently she added:
"May I ask you a question?"
"Speak.
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