“Yes, it is true, they would see the ring,” said Tessa, trying to convince herself that a thing she would like very much was really not good for her.
They were now near the entrance of the church again, and she remembered her cocoons which were still in Tito’s hand.
“Ah, you must give me the boto ,” she said; “and we must go in, and I must take it to the Padre, and I must tell the rest of my beads, because I was too tired before.”
“Yes, you must go in, Tessa; but I will not go in. I must leave you now,” said Tito, too feverish and weary to reenter that stifling heat, and feeling that this was the least difficult way of parting with her.
“And not come back? Oh, where do you go?” Tessa’s mind had never formed an image of his whereabout or his doings when she did not see him: he had vanished, and her thought, instead of following him, had stayed in the same spot where he was with her.
“I shall come back some time, Tessa,” said Tito, taking her under the cloisters to the door of the church. “You must not cry—you must go to sleep, when you have said your beads. And here is money to buy your breakfast. Now kiss me, and look happy, else I shall not come again.”
She made a great effort over herself as she put up her lips to kiss him, and submitted to be gently turned round, with her face towards the door of the church. Tito saw her enter; and then with a shrug at his own resolution, leaned against a pillar, took off his cap, rubbed his hair backward, and wondered where Romola was now, and what she was thinking of him. Poor little Tessa had disappeared behind the curtain among the crowd of peasants; but the love which formed one web with all his worldly hopes, with the ambitions and pleasures that must make the solid part of his