'Yes—come down with me.'
She looked about her a little hesitatingly.
'Have you forgotten anything?' asked Andrea.
She was looking at the flowers, but she answered, 'Ah—yes—my card-case.'
Andrea sprang to fetch it from the table. 'A stranger here?' he read as he handed it to her.
'No, my dear, a friend——'
Her answer was quick, her voice eager. Then suddenly with a smile peculiarly her own, half imploring, half seductive, a mixture of timidity and tenderness, she said: 'Give me a rose.'
Andrea went from vase to vase gathering all the roses into one great bunch which he could scarcely hold in his hands—some of them shed their petals.
'They were for you—all of them,' he said without looking at her.
Elena hung her head and turned to go in silence followed by Andrea. They descended the stairs still in silence. He could see the nape of her neck so fair and delicate where the little dark curls mingled with the gray-blue fur.