But he had counted without Regina; that is to say that he had overlooked
the love and devotion of an intensely vital creature, younger, quicker,
and far cleverer that he, who would watch the sick boy day and night,
steal food and wine for him, lose sleep for him, risk blows for him, and
breathe her strong life into his weak body; to whom the joy of saving
him from death would be so much greater than all fatigue, that there
would be no shadow under her eyes, no pallor in her cheek, no weariness
in her elastic gait to tell of sleepless nights spent by his bedside in
soothing his ravings, or in listening for the beat of his heart when he
lay still and exhausted, his tired head resting on her strong white arm.
And when he seemed better and at ease she often fell asleep beside him,
half sitting, half lying, on the pallet bed, her cheek on the straw
pillow, her breath mingling with his in the dark.

He was better now, and she felt the returning life in him, almost before
he was sure of it himself; and while her heart was almost bursting with
happiness, so that she smiled to herself throughout her rough work all
day long, she knew that he could not stay where he was. Paoluccio
expected him to die, and was beginning to be tired of waiting, and so
was Nanna. If he recovered, he would ask for his watch and other things;
he was evidently a fine young gentleman to whom some strange accident
had happened, and he must have friends somewhere. Half delirious, he had
spoken of them and of his mother, and of some one called Aurora, whom
Regina already hated with all her heart and soul. The innkeeper and his
wife had never come near him since the former had helped the girl to
carry him upstairs, but if they suspected that he was recovering she
would not be able to prevent them from seeing him; and if they did, she
knew what would happen. They would send her on an errand, and when she
came back Marcello would be dead. She might refuse to go, but they were