"Then why do you tremble?" he asked, in another tone; "are you not happy, Regina?"
She made no answer.
"Are you not happy?"
"I'm tired," she said, her eyes shut; "I still feel the shake of the train. Do you hear that whistle?"
"Ah!" she went on, as if speaking in a dream, "I know it now! It's the whistle of the little steamer on the Po! Ah! let us start!"
"We have hardly arrived, and already you want to go?" he said, his voice half jesting, half bitter.
She made no response. He thought she slept, and kept motionless for fear of waking her. But presently he heard her laugh and felt quite cheered.
"What's the matter?" he asked, fondling her hand, which was beginning to grow warm.
"That official—was a gravedigger!" she murmured, still dreaming; "if my sister Toscana had been here how she would have laughed!"