Minna was interested, charmed. She did not move, but gazed steadily before her at the picture. Now the two speakers were immediately behind her. There was no crowd, and they could quite well see over her head. ‘Now just look what different things strike different people!’ said the more decided voice of the two. ‘Look at that picture--“The Two Mendicants.” I call it lovely. Isn’t that girl sweet? And the old woman--splendid! And the young man. Ethel’--in an excited whisper--‘he really has a look of--don’t you know? Those long eyes and that intense look--what Fräulein would call _schwärmerisch_. I do like it. Well, you see, that’s Rome, too. “In the church of Santa Maria-sopra-Minerva, Roma.” And the painter is a man--Hans Riemann, you see. Well, all one can say is that some men have much nicer tastes than some women.... Hadn’t we better go on to the next room, or we shall not get it all done before lunch?’ ‘Oh yes! Come!’ They walked away. Minna, half turning her head, stole a look after them. A couple of fresh-looking, ‘nicely’-dressed, rather meaningless English girls. There are hundreds and thousands of them, gaily passing their opinions on everything that comes under their notice in the heavens above or in the earth beneath. Minna smiled to herself, and again became lost in contemplation of the picture. The door into the small room in which she sat was behind her. For some time she was left in undisturbed solitude. Then there were footsteps behind her, of two persons. She paid no heed to them. They stopped--evidently in front of her work. There was a prolonged silence, till at last a man’s voice said, earnestly and softly: ‘Well, is it not what I told you? Did I do right to bring you?’ A woman’s voice in reply, which yet sounded almost as if the speaker spoke to herself, in a half-dream. ‘Yes; it is the same--Roma. Oh, I am very glad you brought me!’ She spoke Italian. For one moment Minna’s heart sprang with such a wild throb to her throat that she could neither move nor speak. Then it seemed to stop altogether; then went beating on again at five times its usual pace. It all took but a couple of seconds. She had recovered her power of speech and motion. She rose swiftly from her place, and turned towards the speakers, her face in a pale blaze of emotion.