The waltz was over, and the dancers streamed through the intervening rooms towards the gallery in quest of fresher air and freer space.

Two and two they came, quickly following each other and passing on, some filling the high seats along the walls, others hastening towards the supper-rooms beyond.

A few minutes earlier Saracinesca and Corona had been almost alone in the great apartment; now they were surrounded on all sides by a chattering crowd of men and women, with flushed faces or unnaturally pale, according as the effort of dancing affected each, and the indistinguishable din of hundreds of voices so filled the air that Giovanni and the Duchessa could hardly hear each other speak.
"This is intolerable," said Giovanni, suddenly.

"You are not engaged for the last quadrille?
Shall we not go away until the cotillon begins ?" Corona hesitated a moment, and was silent.

She glanced once at Giovanni, and again surveyed the moving crowd.
"Yes," she said at last; "let us go away." "You are very good," answered Giovanni in a low voice, as he offered her his arm.