and Cesare passed
his arm about her waist. She struggled to free herself.

"Let her go!" cried the other men, and, flushed and dishevelled, she
took refuge on the throne. The pose was resumed, and the room settled
down to work again.

She kept very still, but after a while the tears that filled her eyes
overflowed, ran down her cheeks, and dripped upon the hand that held
the fan.

"I am sorry," cried Mario.

"And I."

"Forgive me."

"And me."

"I was a _mascalzone_!"

"And I."

"Forgive them for our sakes," growled Bembi, "or they will cackle all
night."

Olive laughed a little in spite of herself, but she was very tired and
they had hurt her. The marks of Cesare's fingers showed red still on
her wrist, and the lace of the short sleeve was torn.

Mario clattered out of the room presently, and came back with a glass
of water for her. "I am really sorry," he whispered as he gave it. "Do
stop crying."

After all they had not meant any harm. She was a little comforted, and
the expressed contrition helped her.

"I shall be better soon," she said gently.

When she got home to the apartment in Via Arco della Ciambella there
were lies to be told about the lessons, the pupils, the hours. The
fine edge of her exaltation was already blunted, and she sighed at the
thought of her morning dreams; sighed and was glad; the first steps
had not cost much after all, and she had earned five lire and fifteen
soldi.

The lamp was lit in the little sitting-room, and Ser Giulia was
there, cutting out a skirt on the table very carefully, in a tense
silence that was broken only by the click of the scissors and the
rustle of silk.

"I have lost confidence in myself," she said as she fastened the
shining lengths together with pins. "This _is_ the right side of the
material, isn't it, my dear? I can't see."

"Yes, this is right. Let me stitch the seams for you. Where is Signora
Aurelia?"

"She has gone to bed. Her head ached. She--she does not complain, but
I think she needs more sun and air than she can get here."

Olive looked at her quickly. "You ought to go away and rest, both of
you."

"Our brother in Como would be glad to have us with him, but it is
impossible at present. I paid our rent a few days ago--three months in
advance."

"I will go to the house-agent in the Piazza di Spagna to-morrow. It
should not be difficult to get a tenant, and at the end of the time
the furniture could be warehoused, or you coul