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"
She lifted herself up on her pillow and listened--listened until
across the sea, going towards the dawn, the song was lost.
"Gli occhi di Rosa e il mar di Mergellina."
When the voice was near, had not Maurice seemed near to her? And when
it died away, did not he fade with it--fade until the Ionian waters
took him?
She sat up in the darkness until long after the song was hushed. But
she heard it still in the whisper of the sea.

CHAPTER XXI
The Marchesino had really been unwell, as he had told Hermione. The
Panacci disposition, of which he had once spoken to Artois, was
certainly not a calm one, and Isidoro, was, perhaps, the most
excitable member of an abundantly excitable family. Although
changeable, he was vehement. He knew not the meaning of the word
patience, and had always been accustomed to get what he wanted exactly
when he wanted it. Delay in the gratification of his desires,
opposition to his demands, rendered him as indignant as if he were a
spoiled child unable to understand the fixed position and function of
the moon.


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