"Don't you think me very unbecomingly dressed today, dear Johanna? It seems to me I appear very old and haggard in this Venetian coiffure. For that matter, I really ought to have put off the soirée altogether; I could hardly keep on my feet, I had such a headache."
"You have this advantage over us, that even suffering makes you appear more beautiful. From my place in my invisible box, I caught words that would prove to you how great injustice you do yourself."
"Flatterer!" laughed the countess, bitterly. "Go away I--do go away! At all events you can't contradict the evidence of my own eyes."
After the singer had gone, Nelida remained for a time standing on the same spot where the former had taken leave of her. She murmured a few words in her mother tongue, and then said in German:
"He wants to do penance, does he? He shall!--he shall!--he shall!"
She stepped in front of the mirror above the fireplace, before which a lamp, nearly out, burned with a weak, red flame. The candles on the piano were burned down almost to the socket. In this dim light her cheeks looked still more wan, her eyes more sunken, and the scowl on her forehead as if it could nevermore be smoothed away.
"Is it really too late for happiness?" she said aloud, in a hollow voice.
She shuddered, for the night wind swept coldly through the room. Slowly she took the rose from her hair and let it fall to the ground, so that the leaves were strewed over the carpet; then she unwound the veil from her head, took out the comb and shook her hair down over her shoulders. As she did so the blood returned to her cheeks, her eyes sparkled, and she began to be pleased with herself once more. "Il y a pourtant quelques beaux restes!" she said to herself. Then, with sunken head, she strode across the salon, talking half aloud to herself, and stepped up to the open piano. She struck the keys with her open hand so that they gave forth a loud, harsh discord. She laughed scornfully at this. "He will do penance, will he? He shall!--he shall!--he shall!" and, once more folding her arms across her breast, she stepped into the cabinet and stood still before the young Greek's cartoon. She knew the picture by heart. And yet she stood before it as lost in contemplation as though she saw it for the first time.
Suddenly she felt a hot breath upon her neck. She shuddered slightly and looked round.
Stephanopulos stood behind her.