It all hurt him, and yet for
nothing in the world would he have turned away or shut his ears. More
than once, too, the thoughts that had disturbed him while he was
steering in the afternoon, came upon him with renewed and startling
strength. He had in him some of that red old blood that does not stop
for trifles such as life and death when the hour of passion burns, and
the brain reels with overmastering love.
And Bastianello was not in a much better case, though his was less hard
to bear. The pretty Teresina had seated herself on a smooth rock in the
moonlight, not far from the table, and as the dishes came back, the
young sailor waited on her and served her with unrelaxed attention.
Since Ruggiero would not take advantage of the situation, his brother
saw no reason for not at least enjoying the pleasure of seeing the
adorable Teresina eat and drink as it were from his hand. Why Ruggiero
was so cold, and stood there against his rock, silent and glowering,
Bastianello could not at all understand; nor had he any thought of
taking an unfair advantage. Ruggiero was first and no one should
interfere with him, or his love; but Bastianello, judging from what he
felt himself, fancied that she might have given him some good advice.
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