Nella's jaw dropped and her hands stood still and trembled, the one
holding the comb upraised, the other gathering a quantity of her
mistress's hair. Marietta had never spoken to her like this in her life.

"Send me away?" faltered the woman in utter amazement. "Send me away!"
she repeated, still quite dazed. "But it is impossible--" her voice
began to break, as if some one were shaking her violently by the
shoulders. "Oh no, no! You w-ill n-ot--no-o-o!"

The sound grew more piercing as she went on, and the words were soon
lost, as she broke into a violent fit of hysterical crying.

Marietta's anger subsided as her pity for the poor creature increased.
She had made a great effort to speak quietly and not to say more than
she meant, and she had certainly not expected to produce such a
tremendous commotion. Nella tore her hair, drew her nails down her
cheeks, as if she would tear them with scratches, rocked herself
forwards and backwards and from side to side, the tears poured down her
brown cheeks, she screamed and blubbered and whimpered in quick
alternation, and in a few moments tumbled into the corner of a big
chair, a sobbing and convulsed little heap of womanhood.

Marietta tried to quiet her, and was so sorry for her that she could
almost have cried too, until she remembered the detestable things which
Nella had said about Zorzi, and which the woman's screams had driven out
of her memory for an instant. Then she longed to beat her for saying
them, and still Nella alternately moaned and howled, and twisted herself
in the corner of the big chair. Marietta wondered whether her servant
were going mad, and whether this might not be a judgment of heaven for
telling such atrocious lies about poor Zorzi. In that case it was of