nocently on.

Alvina turned to go. Max silently followed, leading Louis by the
arm. When they got downstairs, Max and Louis threw themselves in
each other's arms, and kissed each other on either cheek, gravely,
in Continental fashion.

"She is better," said Max gravely, in French.

"Thanks to God," replied Louis.

Alvina witnessed all this with some amazement. The men did not heed
her. Max went over and shook Geoffrey, Louis put his hand on
Ciccio's shoulder. The sleepers were difficult to wake. The wakers
shook the sleeping, but in vain. At last Geoffrey began to stir.
But in vain Louis lifted Ciccio's shoulders from the table. The head
and the hands dropped inert. The long black lashes lay motionless,
the rather long, fine Greek nose drew the same light breaths, the
mouth remained shut. Strange fine black hair, he had, close as fur,
animal, and naked, frail-seeming, tawny hands. There was a silver
ring on one hand.

Alvina suddenly seized one of the inert hands that slid on the
table-cloth as Louis shook the young man's shoulders. Tight she
pressed the hand. Ciccio opened his tawny-yellowish eyes, that
seemed to have been put in with a dirty finger, as the saying goes,
owing to the sootiness of the lashes and brows. He was quite drunk
with his first sleep, and saw nothing.

"Wake up," said Alvina, laughing, pressing his hand again.

He lifted his head once more, suddenly clasped her hand, his eyes
came to consciousness, his hand relaxed, he recognized her, and he
sat back in his chair, turning his face aside and lowering his
lashes.

"Get up, great beast," Louis was saying softly in French, pushing
him as ox-drivers sometimes push their oxen. Ciccio staggered to his
feet.

"She is better," they told him. "We are going to bed."

They took their candles and trooped off upstairs, each one bowing to
Alvina as he passed. Max solemnly, Louis gallant, the other two dumb
and sleepy. They occupied the two attic chambers.

Alvina carried up the loose bed from the sofa, and slept on the
floor before the fire in Madame's room.

Madame slept well and long, rousing and stirring and settling off
again. It was eight o'clock before she asked her first question.
Alvina was already up.

"Oh--alors--Then I am better, I am quite well. I can dance today."

"I don't think today," said Alvina. "But perhaps tomorrow."

"No, today," said Madame. "I can dance today, because I am quite
well. I am Kishwegin."

"You are bett