She was not even conscious of the abrupt pause in the music, the agitated murmur of voices, the sudden cessation of that rhythmical sweep of footsteps on the floor below.
The door of the box was once more opened.

Naida, attired as a lady of the Russian Court, entered, followed by Nigel.

Both were obviously disturbed.

Nigel, who was in ordinary evening dress, carrying his discarded mask in his hand, was paler than usual and exceedingly grave.
Naida's dark eyes, too, seemed filled with a sense of awesome things.
Almost at the same moment, Maggie realised for the first time that the music had ceased, that there was a hush outside, curiously perceptible, almost audible.
"What has happened ?" she asked breathlessly.
Nigel had poured out a glass of wine and was holding it to Naida's lips.
"Something very terrible," he said quietly.

"Prince Shan was murdered in his box there a few minutes ago." Maggie half rose to her feet.