"Xantippe!"
But she did not answer.
"Xantippe, I have fed our son. The good days are coming when we shall be
rich and happy."
But Xantippe was too busy folding out the creases of her cloak to
notice him. The moonlight streamed on to her, and her face shone like an
angel's. Gregorio made one step toward her, ravished, for she had never
appeared so beautiful to him. For the moment he forgot the whole hideous
history of the last few days and the brief, horrible conversation of the
night before. Fired with a desire to touch her, to kiss her, to
whisper into her ear, in the soft Greek speech, all the endearments and
tendernesses that had won her when he wooed her, he placed his hand upon
her arm. As if stung by a venomous snake, the woman recoiled from his
touch. With a quick movement she sprang back and flung at his face a
handful of gold and silver coins.
"Take them; they're yours," she cried, huskily, and retreated into the
farthest corner of the room.
With a savage curse Gregorio put his hand to his lips and wiped away the
blood, for a heavy coin had cut him.
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