They looked at each other, asking opinions; having got over the horror of a dead man, the outrage on the Divinity shocked them.
'You may send for the priest afterwards,' he said, 'to give a blessing;' for he knew the heart of the Naples folk.
The girl was still lying on the armchair, her eyes covered with her hands, always muttering to herself:
'The dead man—the dead man, dear love! Take him away. Get the dead man carried away.'
'There is no dead man, dear,' he said, with the gentleness that came from his great pity.
'Yes, yes there was,' she whispered, shaking her head in a melancholy way, as if nothing would convince her to the contrary.
'There was no dead man,' he answered gravely, feeling it was necessary to bring her back to reason.
He tried to take her hands from her eyes, but they stiffened, and an agonized expression came over the girl's face.
'Look at me for a moment,' he whispered in an insinuating tone.
'I can't—I can't!' she said in a sad, mysterious voice.