They entered the house. Rather over-elaborate, the long drawing room was furnished in the French Algerian style with several large divans and an immense Bokhara rug that covered the entire floor. In the corner stood a grand piano brought by Alexis from Cairo. Anne seated herself before it and gave Alexis the key. Hopkins brought up a chair and placed it by the piano for Alexis. He dropped into it with a sulky little air, and commenced to tune up. "Hopkins thinks it tires me to stand," he apologized crossly. Then he broke into the dance, ancient fire unquenched, technique magnificently perfected. Plying the keyboard mechanically, Anne listened, shaken to the very marrow. For a moment it seemed as if time had never existed and she was back again in Long Island, young lover by her side, their souls welded in an ecstasy of sound. Then Alexis stopped suddenly. He reeled in his chair. "I'm--a bit giddy," he gasped. The violin dropped on to the floor from inert fingers. Then came the cough, the racking typhoon of a cough that shattered the frail body in its gust. Speechless with terror, Anne and Vittorio looked at each other helplessly. Hopkins poured some medicine into a wine-glass and held it ready. He shook his head sorrowfully. "He shouldn't 'ave done it, ma'am. 'Is cough do be cruel such times." A stained handkerchief to his lips, Alexis lay back in his chair. Anne's eyes fixed themselves upon the blood with a shudder of pity. The medicine administered, she took Hopkins aside. "Tell me the worst," she said below her breath. "Is--is he dying?" Tears gathered in the man's eyes. "Oh, yes, ma'am. 'Es very bad. The doctor says 'e can't last six months." "Ah!" Anne stifled a cry, "Have you been with him long?" The puckered lips trembled. "Hit'll be goin' on seven years, ma'am. H'im sure hi don't know 'at'll become of me when 'es gone. Hi'll feel kinder lost-like." Anne looked at him gratefully. "Hadn't you better get the doctor now?" she whispered above the lump in her throat. He shook his head sadly. "Oh, no, ma'am. There h'ain't nothin' 'e could do for 'im. Jest to lay down and be quiet like is what 'e needs, ma'am." Anne took the hint meekly. She went up to the two men, and took hold of Vittorio's arm where he stood leaning over Alexis. "We must go now, Vittorio. Alexis needs rest. I'm afraid we should never have come!" Her sorrowful eyes met Alexis' apologetic gaze. "Oh, don't say that," he pleaded weakly. "I have an attack like this very often now." She held out her hand and he grasped it with feeble fingers. "It has been heaven to see you again," he whispered. "Now I can die happy." Anne knelt down by the chair. From her aching eyes brimmed scalding tears. "You are going to get well, dear," she murmured, "we are going to make him, aren't we, Vittorio?"