The very likeness between this cold voice and the
dear, warm voice of the absent one made the thought a pang. Her eyes
filled with tears. Still she was silent.
"Am I to take your silence as assent?" Angelo asked again, when he had
waited in vain for her to speak, and the waiting had seemed long to
both.
Mary was sitting almost opposite the hammock, in a chair turned slightly
away from it, so that she faced Angelo more fully than she faced Marie,
unless she moved her head purposely, as she had moved it when her eyes
questioned the eyes of her friend. Her hands were loosely clasped in her
lap; and without answering she slowly bowed her head over them. As she
did so, her eyes fell upon the ring Vanno had slipped on her finger with
a kiss that was a pledge, the ring with "Remember eternal" written
inside. The sight of it was a knock at her heart, like the knock of a
rescuer on the door of a beleaguered castle. She did not speak, in her
own defence, for silence was defence of Marie. And little knowing how
she would be tried, she had sworn to defend her friend, sworn by Vanno's
love and her own love for Vanno. It was a vow she would not break if she
could, lest a curse fall in punishment and kill the love which was her
dearest treasure. Yet through all the echoing confusion in her mind one
note rang clear: she must in the end right herself with Vanno.
It was almost as much for his sake as Marie's, she felt dimly, that she
must keep her promise now and endure this shame, this martyrdom; for
Marie was Angelo's wife, and Angelo was Vanno's beloved brother whose
sorrow would be Vanno's sorrow, whose dishonour would be the family's
dishonour.
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