Part 23 (1/2)

”I would rather not,--it might be embarra.s.sing for both of us.” He laughed uneasily. ”Do you remember that little Andersen girl we met on a steamer the year we went to St. Petersburg?”

He felt Angelescu's arm stiffen under his, and had the light been stronger, he would have seen the bronzed cheek pale. They had reached Mirko's room and entered, closing the door after them.

CHAPTER V

As Ragna entered the pension Astrid came out of the drawing-room to meet her.

”Oh, Ragna, where on earth have you been all day? We have been so anxious! We were afraid you were lost or kidnapped or something. And the dominoes have come, do come and try yours on!”

”The dominoes?” asked Ragna dully.

”Why Ragna Andersen! The dominoes for the _veglione_!” She turned and looked at Ragna attentively as they pa.s.sed under a swinging lamp in the pa.s.sage.

”Ragna, you are ill!” she cried, ”you are as white as a sheet! What has happened?”

”Nothing,” said Ragna, ”I got caught in the carnival crowd and pushed about--that's all, and I am tired out.”

”Well, in the name of common sense, what made you stay out all day when you knew we were going to the _veglione_ to-night? I believe you won't be able to go at all!”

”Oh, yes I shall,” said Ragna, making a desperate effort to pull herself together--no one must know, no one guess her secret! ”Astrid, do be an angel--if I rest quietly for two or three hours I shall be as fit as ever--do explain it to your mother and Hagerup, and have some dinner sent me in my room. I want to lie down, and I won't have time if I have to dress for dinner. Do now, there's a dear!”

”Very well,” a.s.sented Astrid, ”you do look done up, you poor thing!”

But she shook her head as she turned away from Ragna's door. ”I don't like this business,” she said to herself; ”there's something wrong, she's not a bit like her old self!” She was thinking of Ragna's calm a.s.surance and self-sufficiency in Christiania, so far removed from her present almost apologetic manner.

Ragna, alone at last, turned the key in the door; she swept to the floor the black domino laid on her bed, and flinging herself face-downward among the pillows, writhed in a frenzy of grief and shame, the fruit of long hours of suppression. It seemed to her that her very soul must be contaminated. ”Oh, fool! Oh, blind fool that I was!” she moaned, and strained her arms till shoulder and elbow cracked. Suddenly she rose, and marching over to the dressing-table, gazed long and searchingly at herself in the gla.s.s. The redness and puffiness of her eyelids had disappeared during the long drive, but there were dark purple circles under the eyes, she was terribly pale and her mouth and features generally, had a hard, drawn look. ”Fool!” she cried again and burying her face in her hands, began to weep. It did not last long however, she soon dashed the tears away, angrily. ”It's no use crying over spilt milk!” With a sort of rage she tore off her clothes, trampling them on the floor,--were they not witnesses, accomplices almost? Then she washed, and it seemed to her that she hated her beautiful white body; all that she was, all that she had become, sickened her.

She slipped on a dressing gown and lay down on the bed, quite motionless, staring miserably into s.p.a.ce. Nothing was left to her, nothing! If only Mirko had not been so horrible--afterwards! She shuddered and ground her teeth. Oh, the shame of it, the bitter humiliation! Her eyes burned, her throat was dry as though seared by a hot iron, her head throbbed painfully.

Presently the maid knocked and when Ragna had unlocked the door, brought in a tray with dinner, which she set on the table. She surveyed Ragna with sympathy and curiosity.

”Does not the Signorina feel well? What a pity, the night of the _veglione_!”

”Thank you, Rosa, I am a little tired; I daresay I shall be quite rested in an hour or so,” answered Ragna bitterly.

”Shall I not bring the Signorina a gla.s.s of Marsala?”

”No, thank you,” said Ragna, but the maid had already flown off and returned very quickly with a gla.s.s of the topaz-coloured wine.

”Here, drink this, Signorina, it is very good when one is tired, it will warm you up!” She was not to be denied, and to please her Ragna drained the little gla.s.s. Rosa was right, she felt it warming her veins; a tinge of colour crept to her cheeks, and she managed to swallow a little food.

Then she lay down again, and what with the wine and the fatigue fell asleep, and slept until Rosa returned to help her dress.

Rosa, as she watched the Signorina's purple shadowed eyes, said to herself.

”_Macche fatigue!_ Displeasure of love, that is what it is!” She prided herself on her perspicacity where affairs of the heart were concerned, and sighed deeply to show her sympathy.

Ragna stood apathetically while the maid hooked up her bodice. She wore a simple white frock, very youthful and girlish, and the low neck and short sleeves displayed her pretty shoulders and rounded, slender arms to advantage.