She turned slowly and glanced at San Miniato's face.

The moonlight improved it, she thought.

There seemed to be more vigour in the well-drawn lines, more strength in the forehead than she had noticed until now.

She felt that she was in sympathy with him, and that the sympathy might be a lasting one.

Then she turned quite round and faced the commonplace lamp with its pink shade, which stood on the dinner-table, and she experienced a disagreeable sensation.