A soldier in uniform trousers and a linen jacket and cap had come in

with a tray on which there was a smoking basin.

"You are from Sicily, aren't you, cook?"

"Yes, from Sicily, Signora."

Roma leaned back to Elena and said in an undertone, "That's where he

has gone to, isn't it?"

"Some people say so, but nobody knows where he is."

"No news yet?"

"None whatever."

"Sicily must be a lovely place, cook?"

"It is, Signora. It's the loveliest place in the world."

"Last night I had such a beautiful dream, doctor. Somebody who had been

away came back, and all the church bells rang for him. I thought it was

noon, I remember, for the big gun of the Castle had just been fired. But

when I awoke it was quite dark, yet there was really something going on,

for I could hear people singing in the city and bands of music playing."

"Ah, that ... I'm afraid that was only ... only the sequel to the Prime

Minister's funeral. Rome is not sorry that Baron Bonelli is dead, and

last night a procession of men and women marched along the streets with

songs and hymns, as on a night of carnival.... But I must be going.

Sister, see she takes her medicine as usual, and lies quiet and does not

excite herself. Good-morning!"

When the cook also had gone Roma raised herself on her elbow. "Did you

hear what the doctor said, Elena? The death of the Baron has altered

everything. It was really no crime to kill that man, and by rights

nobody should suffer for it."

"Donna Roma!"

"Ah! no, I didn't mean that. Yet why shouldn't I? And why shouldn't you?

Didn't he kill Bruno and our poor dear little Joseph?..."

Elena was crying. "I'm not thinking of myself," she said.

"I'm not thinking of myself, either," said Roma, "and I'm not going to

give in at the eleventh hour. But David Rossi will come back. I am sure

he will, and then..."

"And then... you, Donna Roma?"

"I?"

Roma fell back on her bed-chair. "No, I shall not be here, that's

true. It's a pity, but after all it makes no difference. And if David

Rossi has to come back... over... over my dead body, as you might say...

who is to know... or care... except perhaps... some day... when he..."

Roma struggled on, but Elena broke down utterly.




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