But after dinner a girl from Budapest was asked if she would dance. The girl laughed and hesitated; then she vanished for a few minutes, during which time Nunziata turned faint and sick. The girl reappeared, barefooted and lightly draped; then she danced. She danced like the incarnation of spring, and she looked like a blossom blown from the almond-tree. And Nunziata was morbid again.
Nino was in despair. He looked gloomy, and sighed, and quoted Verlaine:
"Mourons ensemble, voulez-vous?"
She laughed a little broken laugh, and quoted the succeeding line:
"Oh! la folle idée!"
And she did not quite mean her laugh, as he did not quite mean his sigh.
Thus the two lovers toyed lightly with thoughts of the grave, while far away, at the Grey House, Death had uncovered his face, and was knocking at the door.
Mrs. Avory had awakened one morning to find the last of her daughters pale, with blood-stained lips, fighting for breath. A doctor, summoned in haste, had said: "Davos!" A knighted specialist from London had repeated: "Davos!"