There was one week when she apparently tried to divert her thoughts. She surrounded herself with company, and in the evening her gondola was attended by several others in which she placed her friends and the musicians hired to sing for them. Once she asked me to sing. I declined, alleging my unfitness to perform in the presence of professional musicians and numerous _dilettanti_. She insisted, gently at first, then with some irritation; I continued to refuse, and at last she ordered me, in a most imperative tone, to obey her. It was the first time in her life that she had lost her temper. And I, instead of reflecting that it was her illness which had changed her disposition thus, and humoring her, yielded to the suggestion of invincible pride, and declared that I was not her slave, that I had hired myself to her to row her gondola and not to entertain her guests; and, in a word, that I had nearly ruined my voice for her amusement, and that she rewarded me so ill for my self-sacrifice that I would sing no more for her or anyone else. She made no reply; the friends who accompanied her, amazed at my audacity, held their peace. A few minutes later, Salomé uttered a sharp exclamation and seized little Alezia, who, having fallen asleep in her mother's arms, nearly fell into the water. The signora had fainted some moments before, and no one had noticed it. I dropped my oar; I talked at random; I went to the signora's side; I should have done some insane thing or other, if the prudent Salomé had not imperiously sent me back to my post. The signora came to herself and we made haste back to the palace. But the company was surprised and shocked, the music was all awry; and, for my own part, I was in such despair and terror, that my trembling hands could not hold the oar. I lost my wits, I ran into all the other gondolas. Mandola swore at me; but I, deaf to his warnings, turned every moment to look at Signora Aldini, whose pale face seemed, in the moonlight, to bear the stamp of death. She passed a bad night; the next day she was feverish and kept her bed. Salomé refused to admit me. In spite of her refusal I stole into the bedroom and dropped on my knees beside the signora, weeping bitterly. She held out her hand, which I covered with kisses, and told me that I had done right to resist her.