CHAPTER XIII.
.jpg)
HE removal of Joconda's body from its grave was never noticed by the sacristan of Santa Tarsilla, or by any one of her neighbours.
No one ever went nigh that rough space of ground under the sea wall. They had done with her when they had buried her. When the torch of Andreino had flared itself out, the last rite of remembrance had been finished for ever.
Santa Tarsilla was like the greater world that lay around outside its desolate plains and swamps.
'That girl is a base one,' said the neighbours; 'never so much as a wooden cross has she set above the grave, or a two-soldo print of a saint has she hung above it!'
