“Where is she?” repeated Koma, now with a slight thrill of apprehension in his voice.
Still that silent, drooping little figure, with its bowed head and lips that refused to speak.
The shadows deepened in the room, and without the skies were darkening.
Aoi raised her head, shivered, and looked about her dazedly. Then suddenly she clapped her hands mechanically.
She was sending for the girl, thought the other three, as they waited in tense silence for a response to her summons. But when Mumè thrust in her fat, reddened face, Aoi only mechanically said:
“Lights, honorable maid.”
Koma placed his hand heavily on her shoulder.
“Mother,” he said, “you do not make me answer. Where is Hyacinth?”
“Gone,” said Aoi, faintly.
“Gone! What do you mean?”