But it was only a deep sleep into which the overwhelming wave of joy had suddenly plunged him. At least that was what Miss Wilson said, as she tucked the clothes up around the thin shoulders.
Rare tears coursing down her cheeks, Anne looked down upon Alexis. She lifted the violin from the bed, and putting it reverently into its case, tiptoed out of the room.
As she laid it upon the piano, she sank on to the bench with a little sobbing cry, her face buried in her hands.
“Thank God,” she sobbed. “Thank God!”
Later, back in her alcove, she realized that mortal fatigue had suddenly fallen upon her. She crept wearily into the little day-bed and lay prostrate between marble-cool sheets. Would the tomb feel as cold, she wondered idly.
If Alexis recovers I am pledged.
Dawn thrust an ashen face against the window and found Anne milk-white, wide-eyed, lying within the brazen mantle of her hair.
CHAPTER XV
“DUG DEEP INTO MY HEART—”
The sun was golden upon the paneled walls of Anne’s gay little sitting room. In its uncompromising rays, Torrigiani’s face shown drawn.
Anne looked at him remorsefully.