“Allaye!” he said.
“Will you come in for a moment? I can’t leave Mrs. Tuke.”
Ciccio obediently followed Alvina into the house and up the stairs, without a word. He was ushered into the bedroom. He drew back when he saw Effie in the bed, sitting with her long plaits and her dark eyes, and the subtle-seeming smile at the corners of her mouth.
“Do come in!” she said. “I want to thank you for the music. Nurse says it was for her, but I enjoyed it also. Would you tell me the words? I think it’s a wonderful song.”
Ciccio hung back against the door, his head dropped, and the shy, suspicious, faintly malicious smile on his face.
“Have a glass of port, do!” said Effie. “Nurse, give us all one. I should like one too. And a biscuit.” Again she stretched out her long white arm from the sudden blue lining of her wrap, suddenly, as if taken with the desire. Ciccio shifted on his feet, watching Alvina pour out the port.
He swallowed his in one swallow, and put aside his glass.
“Have some more!” said Effie, watching over the top of her glass.
He smiled faintly, stupidly, and shook his head.
“Won’t you? Now tell me the words of the song—”