"In the drawer? Here, in my room? Why--it was--"
Her head sank back, and her eyes closed. She had nearly betrayed
herself, for she was very weak.
"It was not there yesterday--I am sure of it," she said feebly.
"Give it to me," said the doctor, sternly, and he put it into his
pocket.
All that day Matilde lay in her room. Gregorio had recovered. He came to
her, and when they were alone, he reproached her bitterly and upbraided
her in unmeasured language for her failure. Veronica was alive, and his
terror of the ruin before him grew stronger with the physical weakness.
He was a coward always, but he was now half mad with fear. He laughed
hideously, and his face twitched. He sawed the air with extraordinary
gestures while he walked up and down in his wife's room, speaking
excitedly in a low tone. Matilde turned to the wall and answered
nothing. For she could not have found anything to say.
From time to time, during the day, she had news of Veronica. Elettra
never left her mistress but once, shortly before twelve o'clock. She
went out for a quarter of an hour, and came back bringing fresh eggs,
bread, and wine, which she had bought herself.
"It is poor fare, Excellency," she said, as she boiled the eggs in the
tea-urn, "but it is safe. If you are strong enough this afternoon, we
will go away. This is not a good house. I do not understand what was
done; but it was done to kill you and not to hurt them."
"I think it was," said Veronica.
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