Page:Claire Ambler (1928).djvu/124

 at the other end of the corridor. He was wrapped in a long ulster, with a heavy woollen muffler about his throat, and with his American friend beside him he was hobbling toward the passage that led to the cloister and the great outer gates. This was the first time the invalid had gone forth in the evening, and Claire jumped to a conclusion.

She stared, neglecting the match, though Arturo held it for her until it scorched his fingers. "They must be—they're going up to the Greek theatre!" she said under her breath.

"Who?" her mother inquired.

"What?" Claire said hazily.

"I understood you to say somebody was going up to the Greek theatre."

"Yes," the girl returned quickly. "Everybody is. There's a concert and it's a glorious night—the most wonderful full moon—I saw it from my window even before dinner. Mother, you wouldn't mind, would you?"

"Mind what?" Mrs. Ambler asked, surprised by the unusual stress her daughter put upon this petition. "What do you mean?"

For a moment Claire looked slightly confused, and she glanced hastily at Arturo. "Mother, I know I