" He closed the book, which hitherto he had held open; closed it
with an angry snap, and held it out to me.
"Restore it to its shelf," he bade me.
I took it, and quite submissively I went to do his bidding. But to gain
the library I had to pass the door of Giuliana's room. It stood open, and
Giuliana herself in the doorway. We looked at each other, and seeing her
so sorrowful, with tears in her great dark eyes, I stepped forward to
speak, to utter something of the deep sympathy that stirred me.
She stretched forth a hand to me. I took it and held it tight, looking up
into her eyes.
"Dear Agostino!" she murmured in gratitude for my sympathy; and I,
distraught, inflamed by tone and look, answered by uttering her name for
the first time.
"Giuliana!"
Having uttered it I dared not look at her. But I stooped to kiss the hand
which she had left in mine. And having kissed it I started upright and
made to advance again; but she snatched her hand from my clasp and waved me
away, at once so imperiously and beseechingly that I turned and went to
shut myself in the library with my bewilderment.
For full two days thereafter, for no reason that I could clearly give, I
avoided her, and save at table and in her husband's presence we were never
once together.
The repasts were sullen things at which there was little said, Madonna
sitting in a frozen dignity, and the doctor, a silent man at all times,
being now utterly and forbiddingly mute.
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