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Updated: May 19, 2025
The terrible question was in his eyes. "You would kill yourself, if I refused if I would not go with you?" Still she could not believe him. "Yes," he answered. Once more the room was very still, as the two looked into one another's eyes. But Maria Addolorata said nothing.
If you will follow my directions, I will almost promise that her most reverend excellency shall not die before to-morrow." He smiled now, as he gave the abbess her full title, for he began to feel as though he had known Maria Addolorata for a long time, though he had only had one glimpse of her eyes, just when she had raised her head to get a look at him through the loophole of the gate.
In the dim shadow behind it, she saw the face of Maria Addolorata like a death-mask, and those strange, deep eyes of the nun's looking scornfully at her over the man's shoulder, though she forgot him in the woman's deadly fascination. She stared, unable to close her lids, as it seemed to her, though she longed to shut out the sight.
The linen presses were entered from within the anteroom by a door on the right, so that they were actually in the abbess's apartment, an old-fashioned and somewhat inconvenient arrangement. Maria Addolorata, her veil drawn down, so that she could not see the doctor, but only his feet, and the folds of it drawn across her chin and mouth, received him at the door, which she closed behind him.
She looked up to the marble face of Christ's mother, the Addolorata, the mother of sorrows, and she thought of that sinning nun, dead long ago, who had been called Addolorata. "Let us pray for them all," she repeated. "For Maria Braccio, for Gloria for Angelo Reanda." She lowered her head upon her hands.
The abbess was too ill to give orders too ill even to speak, it was rumoured. In a few days Maria Addolorata might be 'Her most Reverend Excellency. Meanwhile she was mistress of the situation, and it was safer to obey her. Moreover, the portress was only a lay sister, an old and ignorant creature, accustomed to do what she was told to do by the ladies of the convent.
"Tell me what to do," said Maria Addolorata. "It shall be done as though you yourself did it." Sor Tommaso was encouraged by the tone of assurance in which the words were spoken, and proceeded to give his directions, which were many, and his recommendations, which were almost endless.
"Her most reverend excellency," answered Maria Addolorata, with a little emphasis, as though to teach him the proper mode of addressing the abbess, "is suffering. She has had a bad night." "I shall hope to be allowed to give some advice to her most reverend excellency," said Dalrymple, to show that he had understood the hint. "She will not allow you to see her.
Maria Addolorata had sometimes had a strange expression which was quite her own, and which he had not yet seen in Gloria. But he felt that he should see it some day. He was sure of it, so sure that he had thrown its full force into the sketch on the wall, knowing that it would startle Donna Francesca.
He would have rebuked you as I do." "It was not a love-song. It is about death and Saint John's eve." "Well, then it is about witches. Do not argue with me. There is a rule, and you must not break it." Maria Addolorata said nothing, but moved a step and leaned against the door-post, looking out into the evening light.
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