"Nella has almost finished." He forgot what he suffered, and the agonised contraction of his brows and mouth relaxed.

Marietta wiped away the ashes from his forehead and cheeks, and smoothed back his thick hair.

No woman's hand had touched him thus since his mother's when he had been a little child.

He was too weak to question what was happening to him, but a soft light came into his eyes, and he unconsciously pressed Marietta's hand.
She blushed at the pressure, without knowing why, and first the maiden instinct was to draw away her hand, but then she pitied him and let it stay.

She thought, too, that her touch helped to keep him quiet, and indeed it did.
"How did you know ?" he asked at length, for in his half consciousness it had seemed natural that she should have come to him when she heard that he was hurt.
"Pasquale called Nella," she answered simply, "and I came too.