Gelsomina had forgotten her mask in her hurry, and the gondola was no
sooner in the great canal than she put her face at the window of the
pavilion in quest of the evening air. The rays of the moon fell upon her
guileless eye, and a cheek that was now glowing, partly with offended
pride, and partly with joy at her escape from a situation she felt to
be so degrading. Her forehead was touched with a finger, and turning she
saw the gondolier making a sign of caution. He then slowly lifted his
mask.
"Carlo!" had half burst from her lips, but another sign suppressed the
cry.
Gelsomina withdrew her head, and, after her beating heart had ceased to
throb, she bowed her face and murmured thanksgivings at finding herself,
at such a moment, under the protection of one who possessed all her
confidence.
The gondolier asked no orders for his direction. The boat moved on,
taking the direction of the port, which appeared perfectly natural to
the two females.
Annina supposed it was returning to the square, the place she would have
sought had she been alone, and Gelsomina, who believed that he whom she
called Carlo, toiled regularly as a gondolier for support, fancied, of
course, that he was taking her to her ordinary residence.
But though the innocent can endure the scorn of the world, it is hard
indeed to be suspected by those they love. All that Annina had told her
of the character of Don Camillo and his associates came gradually across
the mind of the gentle Gelsomina, and she felt the blood creeping to her
temples, as she saw the construction her lover might put on her conduct.
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