She averted her head, and played nervously with the ends of her turquoise girdle. "I scarcely know what I mean myself, Vittorio. It is impossible to foresee the future, you know. But--but as I said in my letter, he is very dependent upon my--my friendship. He says that it is I who have brought back his music. Did you know about his misfortune, his breakdown?" Vittorio nodded. "Yes, I read about it in the papers. So the music has come back to him, has it? Well, that is not so extraordinary, is it?" He felt his way. "Things like that usually do come back to one, after a certain time." "Are you trying to say that I had nothing to do with it?" "No, cara, of course not. Only I don't want you to feel too strong a responsibility for this young man. He is probably very much indebted to you, and without doubt very much in love. But are you positive that he needs you as much as he would like you to think?" Anne's anger melted into unexpected amusement. She gestured with her cigarette. "How can I tell, Vittorio? But it really looks that way. If I don't go to see him twice a day, his fever rises and he refuses to eat. And when I first met him on the mountain, his condition was really pitiable. I know that I helped him then." Her look of unconscious triumph wounded him to the marrow. "Tell me about it, Anne. Is it true that he stayed ten days with you in the lodge?" She met his eyes with renewed serenity. "Yes, why not? He was alone and ill, and Regina and I took care of him. He didn't want to return to New York, as he was afraid the newspapers might get hold of it. So I let him stay with me,--tout simplement." He looked as if a weight had been taken off his heart. "But why did you not tell me, cara? That night when I teased you about fallen gods, I little guessed that you were concealing one up in your sitting room. That at that very moment he was toasting those feet of clay at your fireplace. If any one had told me so, I would have laughed in his face. I always thought you scorned underhand methods. It was not like you at all!" "Of course it wasn't. But how could I help it? It was his secret, not mine. As a matter of fact, he didn't arrive until long after our conversation took place. He didn't want to be seen, so I had to hide him. I didn't enjoy it. I hate subterfuge, as you know. If I hadn't always been so aboveboard, there would have been less talk about me. No one knows it better than I do! And now the first time that I have stooped to such methods, everybody puts a false construction upon it." "Except myself, Anne. I know you too well. You would never do anything beneath you." She flicked her ashes into the grate rather nervously. "Then you know me better than I do myself!" He leaned towards her, deeply troubled.