oy. They did not weep any more,
for all their tears were shed, and the light of another world was
reflected in their depths.

Rossi sat by her side, and she took one of his hands and held it on her
lap between both her own. Sometimes she looked at him and then she
smiled. She, who had lost him for a little while, had got him back at
last. It was only just in time. A little break, and they would continue
this--there. Ah, she was very happy!

Rossi's free hand was supporting his head, and he was trying to look
another way. Do what he would to conquer it, the spirit of rebellion was
rising in his heart again. "O God, is this just? Is this right?"

They were alone on the loggia. Above was the cloudless blue sky, below
was the city, hardly seen or heard.

"David," she began, in a faint voice.

"Dearest?"

"I have been so happy in having you with me again that there is
something I have forgotten to tell you."

"What is it, dear?"

"Promise me you will not be shocked or startled."

"What is it, dearest?" he repeated, although he knew too well.

"It is nothing.... Yes, hold my hands tight. So!... Really it's nothing.
And yet it is everything. It is ... it is death."

"Roma!"

Her eyelids trembled, but she tried to laugh.

"Yes, dear. True! Not immediately. Oh, no! not immediately. But signed
and sealed, you know, and not to be put aside that anybody may be happy
much longer."

She was laughing almost gaily. But all the same she was watching him
closely, and now that her word was spoken she suddenly became conscious
of a secret desire which she had not suspected. She wanted him to
contradict her, to tell her she was quite wrong, to convince and defeat
her.

"Poor little me! Pity, isn't it? It would have been so sweet to go on a
little longer--especially after this reconciliation. And when one has
kept one's heart under bolt and bar so long...."

Her sad gaiety was breaking down. "But it's better so, isn't it?"

He did not reply.

"Ah, yes, it's better so when you come to think of it."

"It's terrible!" said Rossi.

"Don't say that. It's a thing of every day. Here, there, everywhere. God
wouldn't allow it to go on if it were terrible."

"It's bitterly cruel for all that."

"Not so cruel as life. Not nearly. For instance, if I lived you would
have to put me away, and that would be harder to bear than death--far
harder."

"My darling! What are you saying?"

"It's true, dear. You know it's true. God