I turned.

It was the Lord Filippo, pale as the rest, his affectations all fallen from him, and the man himself revealed by the hand of an overwhelming sorrow.

With him was a grave, white-bearded gentleman, whose sober robe proclaimed the physician.
"This is a black and monstrous affair, my friend," he murmured.
"Is it true, is it really true, my lord ?" I cried in such a voice that all eyes were turned upon me.
"Your grief is a welcome homage to my own," he said.

"Alas, Dio Santo! it is most hideously true.

She lies there cold and white as marble, I have just seen her.