'There will be no performance to-night, go home!' she cried imperatively.
But they did not obey her; frightened, they stood as though rivetted to the spot.
'Go home!' repeated Faustina. 'We have nothing to do here; we shall not play for some time.'
The crowd began to withdraw, murmuring. As soon as the last had gone, Abbuzzi also disappeared, and Faustina lay on the sofa not seeming to notice an elderly gentleman standing quietly apart.
He coughed softly.
'Ah! It's you?'
'Yes,' said the German, indifferently.
It was Hasse, Faustina's husband.
'What are you thinking about? About a new Requiem for the dead King?'
'You have guessed almost right,' answered the composer. 'I was wondering if the mass: Sulla morte d'un eroe, which I composed some time ago, would be suitable for the funeral service. I am a musician, and even grief turns with me to music.'