Good-morning--a thousand excuses." He bowed, and the gendarmes rose to their feet, refreshed and ruddy with the good wine.
Of course I knew I could not accompany them, and I was too much frightened to have been of any use.

Poor Mariuccia was crying in the kitchen.
"Send word to Jacovacci, the manager, if you do not hear by twelve o'clock," Nino called back from the landing, and the door closed behind them all.

I was left alone, sad and frightened, and I felt very old--much older than I am.
It was tragic.

Mechanically I sank into the old green arm-chair, where she had sat but yesterday evening--she whom I had seen but twice, once in the theatre and once here, but of whom I had heard so much.

And she was dead, so soon.