‘Where has he gone?’ asked Minna of Hans, in a low voice. She felt almost hysterical in her effort not to laugh, not to betray how odd she found the whole situation, and the astonishing part of it was, to her, that the rest of the company sat so placidly in their places, engrossed in their talk and jokes, and seemed scarcely to have seen what had been going on in this particular corner. ‘To the kitchen,’ replied Hans, also betraying not the least surprise. ‘There is a new cook, the fifth in four months. He came yesterday, and he has probably made a frightful mess of something--tumbled the _compôte_ into the fire, or ruined the vegetables, or something, who knows? I do not wish to conceal any of our shortcomings--and they are many--from you.’ ‘Into the kitchen!’ repeated Minna. ‘But isn’t there a Signora Dietrich?’ ‘Of course there is. But she and Fulvia, the _bambina_, are away just now.’ ‘So this poor gentleman is _facchino_ in ordinary, as well as manager,’ murmured Minna wonderingly. ‘What next?’ ‘You’ve hit the right nail on the head when you say “this poor gentleman,”’ replied Hans in a rapid, discreetly low tone. ‘He’s a gentleman, and he’s poor, and----’ Here Signor Giuseppe reappeared, and went to his place, moving more calmly, perhaps, with a face white from inner excitement of some kind, probably painful. He seated himself in ominous silence. His lips moved a little, but no sound came from them. Once or twice he glanced, with eyes full of suppressed fire, towards the kitchen door. A great peace and silence now reigned in that region. Again no one seemed in the least struck by what had taken place. Again Minna felt a wild desire to burst into a peal of laughter, but happening just at that moment to glance towards Signor Giuseppe, she met his eyes fixed fully, and probably accidentally, on her face. Though he was looking at her, she did not feel as if he really saw her, and those eyes were full of such sadness, such despondency; over the whole face, still pale from recent excitement, there was a look of such resigned, all-enduring patience, that all her desire to laugh vanished away. Instead, she could have wept. She said nothing, but fixed her eyes firmly upon her plate, then, with an effort, turned to the German lady, and carried on a trifling conversation with her, until at last, to her intense relief, the company began to move, rising from their chairs and dispersing quickly. ‘I suppose you will want to go now, or very soon,’ said Hans Riemann to her. ‘Well, yes.’ ‘Do you care to see the rooms, or not, after this specimen?’ he asked her in a low voice, with a half-laugh. Minna paused perceptibly ere she replied. Should she come here or not? It was altogether very odd, and did not seem as if it would be very comfortable. Then she looked up, and saw that Signor Giuseppe was looking with the same piercing, almost suspicious, glance at her and Hans as they spoke together. She took her decision at once.