'Who wanted the Honourable Barbarulo?
'I,' said the ghost.
'He is not there.'
'Is he away for a holiday?'
'He has been dead four months.'
This remark settled the living corpse. He reflected for an instant, but probably could think of no other names, and slowly took his departure. A moment after Francesco Sangiorgio crossed the room, spoke to the footman—only two words—and accompanied by him went out of doors and got into the carriage, all excitement still with his success.
'My sincere congratulations,' said Donna Elena Fiammanti, pressing his hand.
The brougham drove off. In the waiting-room the going and coming had ceased; the child was crying, after being awakened by its mother; the tired ushers sat down for a minute; two deputies, one with three acquaintances and the other with two, were gossiping in the other room.
* * * * *
The flames were flickering in the fireplace; three logs forming a triangle were burning at their ends. Donna Elena gently stirred the hot ashes and the glowing embers; they gave forth a few sparks, and the three logs blazed up. Then she sat back in her chair and mechanically smoothed down her clinging, black silk skirt at the hips.