Some time passed before he saw her again. He was obsessed by thoughts of Olivier's troubles and his health. At last one day he came upon the address she had given him and he made up his mind to call on her.
As he went up the steps he heard the sound of workmen hammering. The anteroom was in disorder and littered with boxes and trunks. The footman replied that the Countess was not at home. But as Christophe was disappointedly going away after leaving his card, the servant ran after him and asked him to come in and begged his pardon. Christophe was shown into a little room in which the carpets had been rolled up and taken away. Grazia came towards him with her bright smile and her hand held out impulsively and gladly. All his foolish rancor vanished. He took her hand with the same happy impulsiveness and kissed it.
"Ah!" she said, "I am glad you came! I was so afraid I should have to go away without seeing you again!"
"Go away? You are going away!"
Once more darkness descended upon him.
"You see…." she said, pointing to the litter in the room. "We are leaving Paris at the end of the week."
"For long?"
She shrugged:
"Who knows?"
He tried to speak. But his throat was dry.