I don't know. I was wondering about it." Mary stammered a
little, blushing very deeply, partly with embarrassment--though she was
not embarrassed when other strangers spoke to her--partly in surprise at
hearing the "Roman Prince" speak English like an Englishman. "Please do
tell me."
Before he spoke, she had given a quick order to the chauffeur to move on
and leave the end of the mule path free. Now the heart of the motor
began to beat, and the car rolled a few feet farther on. Vanno came out
into the thick white dust of the much-travelled road, and he and Mary
could both look up to the tablet he had mentioned.
It was an oblong piece of marble, set high on the face of gray rock
which on one side walled the upper Corniche, Napoleon's road. On it was
the curious inscription: "Remember eternal at my heart. February, 1881."
"It is so strange," Mary said, trying to seem at ease, and not show the
slightest emotion. It was ridiculous to feel emotion! Yet she could not
help being absurdly happy, because this man who had snubbed her once and
apparently disapproved her always was speaking to her of his own accord,
in kindness.
"'Remember eternal at my heart?' It's like the English of a person not
English. But why did he not have the words put in his own language,
which he knew?"
"That is what everybody wonders," Vanno said, finding it as difficult as
Mary found it, not to show that this conversation was of immense,
exciting importance. "It puzzled me so much when I first came this way
that I couldn't get it out of my head.
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