the old wall.

"Molto bella!" she cried, half ironically. "Molto bella! Je vous
envoie une rose--" And she threw the roses out on to the drive. A
man's figure was seen hovering outside the gate, on the high-road.
"Entrez!" called Mrs. Tuke. "Entrez! Prenez votre rose. Come in and
take your rose."

The man's voice called something from the distance.

"What?" cried Mrs. Tuke.

"Je ne peux pas entrer."

"Vous ne pouvez pas entrer? Pourquoi alors! La porte n'est pas
fermee a clef. Entrez donc!"

"Non. On n'entre pas--" called the well-known voice of Ciccio.

"Quoi faire, alors! Alvina, take him the rose to the gate, will you?
Yes do! Their singing is horrible, I think. I can't go down to him.
But do take him the roses, and see what he looks like. Yes do!" Mrs.
Tuke's eyes were arched and excited. Alvina looked at her slowly.
Alvina also was smiling to herself.

She went slowly down the stairs and out of the front door. From a
bush at the side she pulled two sweet-smelling roses. Then in the
drive she picked up Effie's flowers. Ciccio was standing outside the
gate.

"Allaye!" he said, in a soft, yearning voice.

"Mrs. Tuke sent you these roses," said Alvina, putting the flowers
through the bars of the gate.

"Allaye!" he said, caressing her hand, kissing it with a soft,
passionate, yearning mouth. Alvina shivered. Quickly he opened the
gate and drew her through. He drew her into the shadow of the wall,
and put his arms round her, lifting her from her feet with
passionate yearning.

"Allaye!" he said. "I love you, Allaye, my beautiful, Allaye. I love
you, Allaye!" He held her fast to his breast and began to walk away
with her. His throbbing, muscular power seemed completely to envelop
her. He was just walking away with her down the road, clinging fast
to her, enveloping her.

"Nurse! Nurse! I can't see you! Nurse!--" came the long call of Mrs.
Tuke through the night. Dogs began to bark.

"Put me down," murmured Alvina. "Put me down, Ciccio."

"Come with me to Italy. Come with me to Italy, Allaye. I can't go to
Italy by myself, Allaye. Come with me, be married to me--Allaye,
Allaye--"

His voice was a strange, hoarse whisper just above her face, he
still held her in his throbbing, heavy embrace.

"Yes--yes!" she whispered. "Yes--yes! But put me down, Ciccio. Put
me down."

"Come to Italy with me, Allaye. Come with me," he still reiterated,
in a voice hoarse with pain and yearning.

"Nurse! Nurse!