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A Spirit in Prison by Robert Smythe Hichens
page 18 of 862 (02%)
"Grazie, Signorina."

He did not hold out his hand, but his eyes, now devoted entirely to
the cigarettes, began to shine with pleasure. Vere did not give him
the presents at once. She had something to explain first.

"We mustn't wake them," she said, pointing towards the boat in which
the men were sleeping. "Come a little way with me."

She retreated a few steps from the sea, followed closely by the eager
boy.

"We sha'n't disturb them now," she said, stopping. "Do you know why
I've brought you these?"

She stretched out her hands, with the dolce and the cigarettes.

The boy threw his chin up again and half shut his eyes.

"No, Signorina."

"Because you did what I told you."

She spoke rather with the air of a little queen.

"I don't understand."

"Didn't you hear me call out to you from up there?"--she pointed to
the cliff above their heads--"when you were sitting in the boat? I
called to you to go in after the men."
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