CHAPTER XXIII Next morning Ruth did not refer to the episode on the sands of the lagoon. ” She spoke rather quickly, because she found her father’s question the most awkward she had ever had to answer in her life. Yet she could not bring herself to hate the girl, or even Gianfrancesco, the one who would have sent her to her death more than once. “I believe it is. She had looked up from her seat at the small round table in the centre of the parlour which, together with the wooden armchairs beside the small fireplace, and a sideboard next the single casement, was all the furniture the place afforded. “What has he to do with it?” “He was your sister’s master—her friend. There was nothing to be learned from her face. He had been frozen in time at age forty-two.
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