I was filled with amazement, grief, and rage.
"The horrible wretch!" I exclaimed. "What malignant wickedness!"
"Oh," said Sylvia, holding up one finger, "you mustn't talk like that about the sister. She may think she is right, but I don't see how she can; and perhaps she would have some reason on her side if she could see me standing here talking about her, instead of attending to my work. But I determined that I would not go away without saying a word. You have always been very courteous to us, and I don't see why we should not be courteous to you."
"Are you sorry to go?" I asked, getting as close to the grating as I could. "If they would let you, would you go on writing for me?"
"I should be glad to go on with the work," she said; "it is just what I like."
"Too bad, too bad!" I cried. "Cannot it be prevented? Cannot I see somebody? You do not know how much I--how exactly you"--
"Excuse me," said Sylvia, "for interrupting you, but what time is it?"
I glanced at the clock. "It wants four minutes of twelve," I gasped.
"Good-by?" I repeated. "How can you bid me good-by? Confound this grating! Isn't that door open?"
"No," she replied, "it's locked. Do you want to shake hands with me?"
"Of course I do!" I cried. "Good-by like this! It cannot be."
"I think," she said quickly, "that if you could get out of your window, you might come to mine and shake hands."
What a scintillating inspiration! What a girl! I had not thought of it! In a moment I had bounded out of my window, and was standing under hers, which was not four feet from the ground. There she was, with her beautiful white hand already extended. I seized it in both of mine.
"Oh, Sylvia," I said, "I cannot have you go in this way. I want to tell you--I want to tell you how"--
"You are very good," she interrupted, endeavoring slightly to withdraw her hand, "and when the story of Tomaso and Lucilla is finished and printed I am going to read it, rules or no rules."
"It shall never be finished," I exclaimed vehemently, "if you do not write it," and, lifting her hand, I really believe I was about to kiss it, when with a quick movement she drew it from me.
"She is coming," she said; "good-by! good-by!" and with a wave of her hand she was gone from the window.