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His eyes met hers steadily.

"We must wait till my nine days of mourning are past," Anna demurred, yielding.

"As you please," Iarbas agreed, "but no longer than the tenth day."

"The nine days," Anna reasoned, her matter-of-factness enveloping her, "must count from the day after Dido's funeral, that cannot be until to-morrow."

"I consent," Iarbas replied, "but for no longer postponement than that."

"My women," said Anna, now wholly her matter-of-fact housewifely self, "should have changed this gay clothing of mine for proper black before now. I must call them. You can occupy the courtyard and rooms Aeneas used."

"Entirely to my mind," Iarbas agreed. "And now I must go the rounds, and see to my posts and pickets. Then I shall arrange for the details of the funeral."

Once again Anna turned from him. She looked down at the sinking coals, dulling and smouldering, their light effaced under the full brilliance of early morning. Again she hid her bowed face on her crossed arms and sobbed pitifully.