"Would you like to go away ?" Hedwig moved her head to say "Yes." "We will go, then, sweetheart.

Where shall it be ?" asked Nino, trying to distract her thoughts from what had just occurred.

"London?
Paris?
Vienna?
I can sing anywhere now, but you must always choose, love." "Anywhere, anywhere; only always with you, Nino, till we die together." "Always, till we die, my beloved," he repeated.

The small white hands stole up and clasped about his broad throat, tenderly drawing his face to hers, and hers to his.

And it will be "always," till they die together, I think.
* * * * * This is the story of that Roman singer whose great genius is making such a stir in the world.