'Don Orsino! Don Orsino!'
She was all alone, pale, and standing half hidden by the heavy curtain on one side of the door opening to the ballroom. Orsino stood still a moment, in great surprise at seeing her thus left to herself in an empty room. Then he went close to her, holding out his hand.
'What is the matter?' he asked in a low voice, for several men were standing about on the other side of the open door, watching the dance.
'Nothing—nothing,' she repeated nervously, as he drew her aside.
'Who left you here alone?' asked Orsino, in displeasure at some unknown person.
'I—I came here—' she faltered. 'I slipped out—it was hot, in there.'
Orsino laughed softly.
'You must not get isolated in this way,' he said. 'It is not done here, you know. People would think it strange. You are always supposed to be with someone—your partner, or your mother. But I am glad, since I have found you.'
'Yes, I have found you,' she said softly, repeating his words. 'I mean—' she corrected herself hurriedly—'I mean you have found me.'