beauty like a Greek; he must have been a singularly happy man—few more happy ———"
The Duc paused as the handle of the door turned; he was only talking because he saw that she was too weary or too languid to talk herself; the door opened, and Della Rocca entered the box again, having escaped from the Archduchess.
"We were speaking of Orvieto; you know more of it than I do. I was telling Miladi that she must go there about Easter time," said the Duc, hunting for his crush hat beneath the chair. "Take my seat, mon cher, for a moment; I see Salvareo in the crowd, and I must speak to him about her imperialissima's supper. I shall be back in an instant."
He departed, with no intention of returning, and was assailed in the corridor by a party of masks, who bore him off gaily between them down the staircase into the laughing, screaming, and capering multitude.
Della Rocca did not take his chair, but sank into the seat behind her, while his hand closed on hers.
