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A little chain of circumstances had led him to form a plan, in a flash, which, if successfully carried out, would account both for the disappearance of Annetta herself, and of Maria Addolorata as well. His eyelids contracted slightly, and his great jaw set itself with the determination to overcome all obstacles.
Yet his eyes were raised and looked up from under his brows, steadily and watchfully, for he knew that Maria Addolorata was behind the screen, and from the first moment of entering the church it seemed to him that he could distinguish her voice from the rest. He knew that it was hers, though he had never heard her sing.
She caught the end of her loose over-sleeve and fanned herself slowly when she had finished speaking. But Maria Addolorata did not consider that she was answered.
The warmth and darkness brought out the scent of the many women gathered together; the atmosphere was charged with human emotion so that Mark sitting in his corner could fancy that he was lost in the sensuous glooms behind some Mater Addolorata of the seventeenth century. He longed to be back in Chatsea.
There is no necessity for analyzing his sensations. It is enough to say at once that he was beginning to be really in love with Maria Addolorata, and that he denied the fact to himself stoutly, though it forced itself upon him with every step which took him further from the convent.
She entered the abbess's apartment. One of the sisters had taken her place, but Maria Addolorata sent her away by a gesture, and sat down by the bedside. The old lady was either asleep, or did not notice her niece's coming. Her face was grey as ashes, and upturned in the shadow.
Dalrymple sat down upon a carved wooden box-bench, and waited. The nun was gone a long time. "I have kept you waiting," she said, as she entered the little room again. "My time is altogether at your service, Sister Maria Addolorata," he answered, rising quickly. "How is her most reverend excellency?" "Very ill. I do not know what to say. She will not hear of seeing you.
As they went up the steep path he took Salvatore familiarly by the arm. "You are too clever, Salvatore," he said. "You play too well for Gaspare." Salvatore chuckled and handled the five-lire notes voluptuously. "Cci basu li manu!" he said. "Cci basu li manu!" Maurice lay on the big bed in the inner room of the siren's house, under the tiny light that burned before Maria Addolorata.
"Thank you, Madam." Maria Addolorata smiled under her veil at the polite simplicity of the reply. She had met Englishmen in Rome. "It is no longer customary to address us as 'Madam," she answered, a moment later. "It is more usual to speak to us as 'Sister' or 'Reverend Sister' or 'Sister Maria. I am Sister Maria Addolorata. But you know it, for you sent your message to me."
He had also taught Maria Addolorata how to feel the pulse; and she counted the beats while he looked at his watch.
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