It was unexpected, it was passionate; if it had been premeditated, it would have been a stroke of genius.

As it was, it was a stroke of luck for San Miniato.

With the true gambler's instinct he saw that he was winning and his hesitation disappeared.

His voice trembled passionately now with excitement, if not with love--but it was the same to Beatrice, who heard the quick-spoken words that followed, and drank them in as a thirsty man swallows the first draught of wine he can lay hands on, be it ever so acid.
At the first moment she had been startled and had almost uttered a short cry, half of delight and half of fear.

But she had no wish to alarm her mother and the quick thought stifled her voice.