Max and Louis stood heating blankets. Louis’ trousers were cut rather tight at the waist, and gave him a female look. Max was straight and stiff. Mrs. Rollings asked Geoffrey to fill the coal-scuttles and carry one upstairs. Geoffrey obediently went out with a lantern to the coal-shed. Afterwards he was to carry up the horse-hair arm-chair.
“I must go home for some things,” said Alvina to Ciccio. “Will you come and carry them for me?”
He started up, and with one movement threw away his cigarette. He did not look at Alvina. His beautiful lashes seemed to screen his eyes. He was fairly tall, but loosely built for an Italian, with slightly sloping shoulders. Alvina noticed the brown, slender Mediterranean hand, as he put his fingers to his lips. It was a hand such as she did not know, prehensile and tender and dusky. With an odd graceful slouch he went into the passage and reached for his coat.
He did not say a word, but held aloof as he walked with Alvina.
“I’m sorry for Madame,” said Alvina, as she hurried rather breathless through the night. “She does think for you men.”
But Ciccio vouchsafed no answer, and walked with his hands in the pockets of his water-proof, wincing from the weather.
“I’m afraid she will never be able to dance tomorrow,” said Alvina.
“You think she won’t be able?” he said.
“I’m almost sure she won’t.”
After which he said nothing, and Alvina also kept silence till they came to the black dark passage and encumbered yard at the back of the house.