Sanctis said nothing.
He understood that Este had misconstrued his motive and suspected his good faith, and he had expected that it would be so. He was not surprised; only the man seemed to him a coward and of poor spirit.
She said no more. She stood still, awaiting some expression of his anger or his regret, but he made none.
'He has doubted me; he is unwise,' he said coldly at last. 'I would have done well by him. There is nothing more to say.
'You will take the pistols?'
'Nay, keep them yourself. The time may come that you will want them.'
'I cannot keep them. It would vex him. He said that you would despise him———'
Over the face of Sanctis went a passing look of unutterable scorn.
'I do,' he said curtly; 'one little thing more or less can make no difference. Keep the pistols. That ever he has burdened you with need of them is what I despise.'
'Since you insult him, I cannot keep them.'
She laid them on the grass beside him.
