But when the Prince said that in
England such cakes were named "lady fingers," the cure laughed gayly,
and pretended to be horrified. This brought him back to his story,
which, in the excitement of helping his guest to food, he had almost
forgotten.
"I was going to tell you," he went on, "of a strange thing, and a lady
unknown to me, who called here. She was from England, I should say."
Vanno's heart gave a quick throb. "Could it be possible?" he wondered,
"Was she young and beautiful?" he asked aloud. But the answer dashed his
rather childish hope.
"Not beautiful, and not a girl, but young still. 'Striking' would be the
word to express her. And her age, about thirty."
Vanno lost interest. "Why was it so strange that she should call?" he
inquired. "People must find their way here sometimes; even those who
haven't you for a friend."
"Yes, sometimes; and I am glad to see them. This was strange only
because the lady knew that I was a friend of your family. She came
because of that, and put a great many questions; but she refused to tell
her name. She said it was not necessary to mention it."
Interest came back again in a degree. "What was she like?" the Prince
wanted to know.
The cure thought for a moment, and answered slowly. "I can see her
still," he said, "because there was something different about her from
any one else I ever saw. As she came toward me in the _Place_, where you
and I met, she looked like a statue moving, her face was so white, and
her eyes seemed to be white, too, like the eyes of a statue.
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