Her true, unselfish enthusiasm became her so well that Nikolai could not help pressing heartily her cordially outstretched hand.
"They are closing," said Nita, and they turned to the entrance.
"A true success, a great success," repeated Sophie to her friend as they went out. "Are you not a little glad, you pale sphinx?"
"Certainly," replied Nita, "certainly I am glad; but I cannot understand it. I would like to give myself a treat after all this past anxiety. Suppose we make an excursion to some of the Paris suburbs. Are you of the party, Monsieur Nikolas?"
And Nikolai's head swam with happiness.
XX.
"Adieu, Nikolai! Adieu, Mascha! Thank you many times. I have enjoyed myself wonderfully, splendidly! Good-night."
It is Sonia's voice on the steps of the house in the Avenue Murillo. She had gone to the theatre with Nikolai and his sister. A month has passed since the opening of the Salon, the whole wonderful month of May.
On the stair landing stands Nita, who, on account of great weariness, had refused to go with them--a lamp in her hand. Nikolai sees her white face, surrounded with light, over an abyss of blackness. "Good-night, Fräulein," calls he. "Good-night," repeats a hoarse, weary little voice--Mascha's.
Then brother and sister depart, and Sonia hurries up the stairs.