Step by step they made their way to the bottom of the stairs, then back into the little room, where Vincenzo guided her to the bed so that she could lie down again.

She murmured something that he could not catch, then seemed to relax all at once. Vincenzo pulled the blanket up and tucked it tenderly around her.

'Not a word of this, my friend,' he said, joining Piero. 'Not to anyone else and especially not to her.'

Piero nodded. 'We wait until she mentions it.'

'If she ever does.'

'You think she won't remember what happened tonight?'

'I don't think she even knows what happened tonight. She wasn't here.'

'Then where was she?'

'In some far place where nobody else is invited. It's dark and fearful, and it's from there that she draws her strength.'

'Her head must be very muddled if she thinks she's Annina.' Piero sighed. 'It was like meeting a ghost in the flesh.'

Vincenzo raised an eyebrow. 'Rid yourself of that idea my friend. She is no ghost.'

'But you heard what she said. She was buried-she died-the child-she was speaking as Annina.'

'No,' Vincenzo said sombrely. 'What's really horrifying is that she was speaking as herself.'

At last Julia awoke to find everything clear. Her body was cool again and the inside of her head was orderly.

'Have you come back to us?'

Looking around, she saw Vincenzo sitting nearby, and wondered how long he'd been there.

'Yes, I think I have,' she said. 'More or less. I may even be in one piece.'

She swung her legs gingerly to the floor and began to ease herself up. He crossed the floor quickly and held out a hand.

'Steady,' he said as she clung to him. 'You haven't been eating enough to keep a mouse alive. No wonder you're weak.'

'I'm not weak. You can let me go.'

He did so and she promptly sat down again.

'OK, I'm weak.'

'Give yourself time. Don't rush it.'