“Vat is it? Vat have I see?” she muttered in her broken English.
“Thou hast seen much that was very strange and very comforting; thou hast done well, dear Giulia,” said Maddelena, leaning forward and bestowing a hug and kiss on her from behind. “Rest now, thou art exhausted. So, thou shalt sleep for a while.”
Giulia leant back and closed her eyes again, and Maddelena turned to Grace, who had risen with difficulty.
“Come, Mrs. Carling, she will be all right in a few minutes. You are faint and trembling. No wonder! It was a marvellous séance.”
“What did she see? What did she say?” faltered Grace, glad of the support of Maddelena’s strong young arm as the girl led her along the passage.
“I will tell you directly. I have it all down, or nearly all, I think, but in Italian—there was no time to translate. I will do that and send it to you to-morrow.”
“It sounded so tragic, so terrible,” said Grace piteously. “I couldn’t understand, of course; but surely she said something about death—the shadow of death—when you seemed so upset!”
“Yes. I was afraid for a moment, but the shadow passed in the end. I am sure, quite sure, she has seen rightly, and that Mr. Carling will be saved, though how I don’t know and she doesn’t, but listen.”
Rapidly she turned over her scrawled notes, and read the last part only, from the description of the room with the flowers and the green hangings. She thought it kindest to suppress the earlier episodes, and as a matter of fact did not divulge them fully to Grace until weeks later.