This, we suspect, was what Miriam had thought of, in coming to the thronged piazza; partly this, and partly, as she said, her superstition that the benign statue held good influences in store.
But Donatello remained leaning against the balustrade.

She dared not glance towards him, to see whether he were pale and agitated, or calm as ice.

Only, she knew that the moments were fleetly lapsing away, and that his heart must call her soon, or the voice would never reach her.

She turned quite away from him and spoke again to the sculptor.
"I have wished to meet you," said she, "for more than one reason.

News has come to me respecting a dear friend of ours.