Without heeding the question, Agnes rose abruptly from her chair.
'Do me one more kindness, Henry,' she said. 'Take me to the Countess at once.'
Henry hesitated. 'Are you composed enough to see her, after the shock that you have suffered?' he asked.
She trembled, the flush on her face died away, and left it deadly pale. But she held to her resolution. 'You have heard of what I saw last night?' she said faintly.
'Don't speak of it!' Henry interposed. 'Don't uselessly agitate yourself.'
'I must speak! My mind is full of horrid questions about it. I know I can't identify it—and yet I ask myself over and over again, in whose likeness did it appear? Was it in the likeness of Ferrari? or was it—?' she stopped, shuddering. 'The Countess knows, I must see the Countess!' she resumed vehemently. 'Whether my courage fails me or not, I must make the attempt. Take me to her before I have time to feel afraid of it!'
Henry looked at her anxiously. 'If you are really sure of your own resolution,' he said, 'I agree with you—the sooner you see her the better. You remember how strangely she talked of your influence over her, when she forced her way into your room in London?'
'I remember it perfectly. Why do you ask?'
'For this reason. In the present state of her mind, I doubt if she will be much longer capable of realizing her wild idea of you as the avenging angel who is to bring her to a reckoning for her evil deeds. It may be well to try what your influence can do while she is still capable of feeling it.'
He waited to hear what Agnes would say. She took his arm and led him in silence to the door.