'It is for you to calculate correctly,' said Luciano.
As he spoke, a first surge of the exasperated house broke upon the stage and smote the curtain, which burst into white zigzags, as it were a breast stricken with panic.
Giacinta came running in to her mistress, and cloaked and hooded her hurriedly.
Enamoured; impassioned, Ammiani murmured in Vittoria's ear: 'My own soul!'
She replied: 'My lover!'
So their first love-speech was interchanged with Italian simplicity, and made a divine circle about them in the storm.
Luciano returned to his party to inform them that they held the key of the emergency.
'Stick fast,' he said. 'None of you move. Whoever takes the first step takes the false step; I see that.'
'We have no arms, Luciano.'
'We have the people behind us.'