'Oh, Leone, how good it is to be alone!' she said with a smile on her mouth; then the smile faded and the darkness of wrath and of scorn came upon her face.
'The little asp that bit me by betrayal!' she said bitterly between her teeth.
For never would she feel quite safe again. She was always on the watch for some strange face, some strange step; and the loss of little Zirlo and the sense of his treachery weighed on her. It was her first experience of the human curse.
The little, chattering, good-humoured, selfish boy had been welcome to her at all times. They had blent their young voices together in many a lay of sea and shore; they had been mirthful about nothing, as it is the privilege of childhood to be. Zirlo, trotting to and fro between the mountains and the moors, had been the one note of gaiety, the one touch of affection, which had allied her with that common humanity which she often hated, oftener despised, and always pitied.
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