"Heaven grant I have advised you well!" said Corona, almost inaudibly.
"How cold this house is! Will you put down my cup of tea? Let us go near
the fire; Strillone is going to sing again."

"I would like him to sing a 'Nune dimittis, Domine,' for me," murmured
Giovanni, whose eyes were filled with a strange light.

Half an hour later Corona d'Astrardente went down the steps of the
Embassy wrapped in her furs and preceded by her footman. As she reached
the bottom Giovanni Saracinesca came swiftly down and joined her as
her carriage drove up out of the dark courtyard. The footman opened the
door, but Giovanni put out his hand to help Corona to mount the step. She
laid her small gloved fingers upon the sleeve of his overcoat, and as she
sprang lightly in she thought his arm trembled.

"Good night, Duchessa; I am very grateful to you," he said.

"Good night; why should you be grateful?" she asked, almost sadly.

Giovanni did not answer, but stood hat in hand as the great carriage
rolled out under the arch. Then he buttoned his greatcoat, and went out
alone into the dark and muddy streets. The rain had ceased, but
everything was wet, and the broad pavements gleamed under the uncertain
light of the flickering gas-lamps.




CHAPTER III.