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I'm very thirsty, Arabella said, smiling. Giovanni followed thedirection of her eyes and found a silver casket on a sideboard. Hetook wine out of it and poured some into a glass. He felt sick justlooking at it, and he turned away again. But Arabella seized his handand drank a mouthful of the wine herself. He was never cross withher. His mother had been cross with him, and his three sisters,and himself.

He tried to speak, but could only groan and shiver slightly. "Afteryou had left me the last time, I lay on the bed, trying feverishlyto dream I was going to die," she said, softly. "Don't talk." Shekissed him again, laughing with her lips. "My father, his father, mymother, her father, all gone," she whispered. "There is only goldmitry in me, and that shares my father's fate. My darling, we'reboth as dead as we can be, and the spook-faced God of our fathers willbe our judge."

Sensation and consciousness slowly ebbed. The world grew shapelessand fog-like, and a voice formed itself out of a great beating ofwater. His head started to swing gently on his neck, and thenhe knew he was lying on his back with his eyes closed. Theboy sewed steadily, his hands moving to and fro with the regularrhythm of a pendulum. His eyes moved from one side to the other atthe motion of the boy's hands, and then glazed. Suddenly a face,somebody's face, came near him. He tried to look towards it, buthis eyes were as heavy as lead. d2c66b5586