"How did you find me?" he asked, still not turning.
"Last night we spoke together, my lord and I. Well, you do not wish to hear what passed?"
"No," said Marius. "No."
"It was enough," continued the Countess. "I decided. I went this afternoon to find you. They gave me your address, and I—I saw only one thing to do, so I am here."
She trembled a little as he still did not move, and drew her mantle closer over her thin dress.
"I have been ill," she said. "How cold your room is."
"I am sorry," he turned now. "I think it hath not been inhabited for some time." He did not look at her. "Shall I light the lamp?"
"Yes," answered the Countess, shivering. "And draw the curtains."
He obeyed her in a quiet, mechanical way; the silver lamp cast a soft, pleasant glow by which she could see the details of the chamber and the splendour of his embroidered dress.