He threw the picture from him with a savage gesture and laughed aloud, much to Regina’s alarm. She hastened to his side.
“The signorino is feeling gay?” she said hopefully, but with a tinge of suspicion. The young man’s expression was anything but gay! “Shall I call my signora?”
He looked at the woman oddly.
“Please do,” he mocked. “I want her to laugh with me!”
His wild look frightened the woman, she ran out of the room, and presently Anne came in.
“Do you want me?” she asked quietly, with a quick glance at his excited face.
He nodded grimly.
“I want to show you something. Do you see this picture?” He held out the photograph. Anne approached the bed.
“Is it your sister?” she noted the trembling fingers with apprehension. A sudden knife-like foreboding pierced her.
“My sister!” he laughed. “No, unfortunately, no. This,” he pointed a trembling, contemptuous finger at the small tragic face, “this is a photograph of my wife.”