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"Don't you pretend to have forgotten, Nina," Lionel said, reprovingly. "Don't you look so innocent. If you have no memory, then I have." "But who, Leo?" she demanded, with a touch of indignation. "Who? who? who? What is it you mean?" "Nina, don't you pretend you have forgotten poor Nicolo Ciana." "You laugh at me, Leo! Nicolo!
They wore a common uniform of white and ate at long tables together, but the patients lived in an upper part of the buildings, and were cared for by nurses and skilled attendants.... The first man to greet Karenin was Ciana, the scientific director of the institution. Beside him was Rachel Borken, the chief organiser. 'You are tired? she asked, and old Karenin shook his head. 'Cramped, he said.
But I should like to see things first. Presently I will be a patient. 'You will come to my rooms? suggested Ciana. 'And then I must talk to this doctor of yours, said Karenin. 'But I would like to see a bit of this place and talk to some of your people before it comes to that. He winced and moved forward. 'I have left most of my work in order, he said.
Yes, here was every one of them, from the enclasped loving-cup to the chance trinkets he had purchased for her just as they happened to attract his eye. He took them all out; there was no letter, no message of any kind. And then he asked himself, almost angrily, what sort of mad freak was this. Had the wayward and petulant Nina forgetting all the suave and gracious demeanor she had been teaching herself since she came to England had she run away in a fit of temper, breaking her engagement at the theatre, and causing alarm and anxiety to her friends, all about nothing? For he and she had not quarrelled in any way whatsoever, as far as he knew. One fancy, at least, never occurred to him or, if it occurred to him, it was dismissed in a moment that Nina might have had a secret lover; that she had honestly wished to return these presents before making an elopement. It was quite possible that Nicolo Ciana, if he had heard of Nina's success in England, might have pursued her, and sought to marry so very eligible a helpmeet; but if the young man with the greasy hair and the sham jewelry and the falsetto voice had really come to England, Lionel knew who would have been the first to bid him return to his native shores and his zuccherelli. Had not Nina indignantly denied that he had ever dared to address her as "Nenna mia," or that his perpetual "Antoniella, Antoni
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