chair, bony and
haggard, one of his great hands hanging listlessly over the front of the
box. Reanda sat down again, and determined that he would not turn round
before the end of the act. But it was of no use. He irritated his
neighbours on each side by his restlessness, and his forehead was moist
as though he were suffering great pain. Again he faced about and stared
upwards at the box. Gloria, to his surprise, was not looking at him, but
in the shadow he met the inscrutable eyes of Paul Griggs, fixed upon him
as though they would never look away. But he cared very little whether
Griggs looked at him or not. He faced the stage again and was more
quiet.

It was a good performance, and he began to be glad that he had come. The
singers were young, the audience was inclined to applaud, and everything
went smoothly. Reanda thought the soprano rather weak in the great tower
scene.

"Calpesta il mio cadavere, ma salva il Trovator!"

she sang in great ascending intervals.

Reanda sighed, for she made no impression on him, and he remembered that
he had been deeply impressed, even thrilled, when he had first heard the
phrase. He had realized the situation then and had felt with Leonora.
Perhaps he had grown too old to feel that sort of young emotion any
more. He sighed regretfully as he rose from his seat. Looking up once
more, he saw that Gloria was putting on her cloak, her back turned to
the theatre. He waited a moment and then moved on with the crowd, to get
his coat from the cloak-room.

He went out and walked slowly up the Via di Tordinona. It was a dark
and narrow street in those days. The great old-fashioned lanterns were
swung up with their oil lamps in them, by long levers held in place by
chains locked to the wall. Here and there over a low door a red light
showed that wine was sold in a basement which was almost a cellar. The
crowd from the theatre hurried along close by the walls, in constant
danger from the big coaches that dashed past, bringing the Roman ladies
home, for all had to pass through that narrow street. Landaus were not
yet invented, and the heavy carriages rumbled loudly through the
darkness, over the small paving-stones. But the people on foot were used
to them, and stood pressed against the walls as they went by, or grouped
for a moment on the low doorsteps of the dark houses.

Reanda went with the rest. He might have gone the other way, by the
Banchi Vecchi, from the bridge of Sant'