She took it up; and, returning with it to the sitting-room, softly closed the bedroom door again.
After some hesitation, she decided to open the case.

In the terror and confusion that possessed her, she tried the wrong key.

Setting this mistake right, she disclosed--strangely mingled with the lighter articles of her own dress--a heap of papers; some of them letters and bills; some of them faded instructions in writing for the preparation of artists' colours.
She recoiled from the objects which her own act had disclosed.

Why had she not taken Father Patrizio's advice?
If she had only waited another day; if she had only sorted her husband's papers, before she threw the things that her trunk was too full to hold into that half-empty case, what torment might have been spared to her! Her eyes turned mournfully to the bedroom door.

"Oh, my darling, I was in such a hurry to get to You!" At last, she controlled herself, and put her hand into the case.
Searching it in one corner, she produced a little tin canister.