"No," Mary answered. "For if he too is dead--and 1881 is quite a long
time ago!--they must be happy together now. Happy ghosts would try to
give happiness to others."
Instantly the sentiment was uttered Mary regretted it. She feared that
the man might think she associated herself with him in some vague hope
of happiness. "I trust at least," she hurried on, "that the story of the
lovers is true."
"It was the cure of Roquebrune who told it to me. He thinks it more
probable than two or three other tales," Vanno said, speaking slowly, to
impress the name of his informant upon the girl. "The cure is a most
interesting man. Perhaps you've met him?" He asked this question
doubtfully, lest Mary should guess that it was to him she owed the
cure's visits; but she was unsuspicious.
"No. He called on me when I was out. I don't know why he came," she
said. She looked a little guilty, because she would have gone up to the
church of Roquebrune after the second call if she had not been afraid
that the cure had been sent to see her by some one at home who had found
out that she was on the Riviera. Vanno, misunderstanding her change of
expression, said no more, though he had begun his story with the
intention of leading up to this. They parted with polite thanks from
Mary for his information, thanks which seemed banal, a strange
anti-climax coming after the story of the lovers. Yet they went away
from one another with an aftermath of their first unreasoning happiness
still lingering in their hearts.
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