Instead of shrinking she made a step forward and took him firmly by the arm.
"What have you done, Ruggiero ?" she asked sternly.
He felt that she was accusing him.

His face grew ashy white, and grave--almost grand, she thought afterwards, for she remembered long the look he wore.

His answer came slowly in deep, vibrating tones.
"I have done nothing--but love her." "Show her to me--take me to her," said Beatrice, still dreading some horrible deed, she scarcely knew why.
"She is here." "Where ?" "Here!--Ah, Christ." His great hands went out madly as though to take her, then tenderly touched the loose sleeves she wore, then fell, as though lifeless, to his sides again.
Beatrice passed her hand over her eyes and drew back quickly a step.

She was startled and angered, but not frightened.

It was almost the repetition of the waking dream that had flitted through her brain before she had landed.