It all seemed like a dream.

The notes were upside down in her sight, and her voice sought strange minor keys unconsciously, as she vainly tried to concentrate her attention upon what she was doing.
"Signorina," said Ercole at last, "what you sing is very pretty, but it is not exactly what is written here.

I fear you are tired." "Perhaps so," said she.

"Let us not sing any more to-day." Ercole shut up the music and rose.

She gave him her hand, a thing she had never done before; and it was unconscious now, as everything she did seemed to be.