“We cannot move the body until the authorities come, signorina. It must stay where it is, but we shall guard it and keep the people off, and you can fetch a sheet from the house to cover it.”
“Oh, God!” she said, “when will they come?”
He slightly shrugged his shoulders.
“I do not know. We have sent to tell them. In a few minutes, perhaps, or in two hours, three hours.”
“And we must leave her here?”
“I will get the sheet.”
He helped her to rise from her knees. Looking down she saw a stain of blood on her skirt, and she clung to his arm for a moment, swaying as though she would fall. There was a murmur among the people of pity and sympathy. “Poveretta! Che disgrazia!”
“Coraggio!” the carabiniere said gently.
Up again, up all the dark stairs, wondering if the others knew and were afraid to come down, wondering if there had been much pain, wondering if it was not all a dreadful dream from which she must wake presently. They knew.