And both watched the moving shadows in the rectangle of yellow light. The old woman began to shiver in the cold night air.
"Come! Go to bed, Aunt Joconda."
He wanted to escort her to her room, on the floor above. While following a lobby, they met something which was dragging itself heavily along the floor. It was a tortoise. The old woman stopped to say: "It is as old as you are—twenty-five; and it has become lame like myself. Your father, with a blow of his heel——"
He remembered the plucked turtle-dove and Aunt Jane, and certain hours spent at Albano.
They arrived at the threshold of her chamber. A disgusting odor of sickness emanated from the interior. By the feeble light of a lamp, one could see the walls covered with madonnas and crosses, a torn screen, an arm-chair showing the stuffing and the springs.
"Will you come in?"
"No, thanks, Aunt Joconda; go to bed."
She entered quickly, then came back to the door with a paper packet, which she opened before George, and emptied a little sugar on the palm of her hand.
"You see? It is all I have left."
"To-morrow, aunt; come, go to bed. Good night!"