violin and flung herself across the table. Zack wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "Dar now, Missy, dar now" Then Zack stared at those people who rushed suddenly toward them, like water bursting through a broken levee.
Signorina Aurora ran forward impetuously, fell on one knee, and put her arm around Miss Stanton's waist. The girl struggled to her feet, amazed. "Oh! I'm so ashamed," she said, "so sorry—I—I—forgot."
"Sorry? Ashamed? You glorious child; Bellissimi! Magnifica!" Then the homesick girl broke down completely. Aurora looked up at the thronging passengers. "Go away," she ordered, "avanti. Go" Reifenstein bent low, kissed the tiny brown hand that trembled so nervously on the table, then turned with uplifted arms and cleared the room.
Signorina Aurora led Miss Stanton to a divan, and drew the brown head upon her breast. "La mia piccina—now tell me all about it." The self-contained and close-lipped Southerner could not have imagined herself talking so freely to a stranger—all about the homesickness, all about the loneliness, and the going away to Milan for five long years.
"Your mother," the sympathetic diva inquired, "is she with you?"
"No; mother's at home."
