278
IN MAREMMA.
Already she had forgotten both his presence and his departure.
She was seated on the low stone chair, thoughtful, passive; her hands were lying on her knee; her eyes rested upon the ground; her whole body seemed to listen for a step that never came; her whole soul was absorbed in remembrance.
He looked one instant, and yet another, and another; and yet another still—his gaze, he knew, would never rest on her again.
Then he drew his long slim dagger from its sheath and let the sun-rays play on it; it was an old friend, a loyal comrade; he had no other upon earth.
Then he took his way across the marshes and the moorlands; going southward, where Rome lay.
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