But the end was narrow, of course, and when he held the light before it, he could not see past the body of the lantern.  He opened the latter, took out the little oil lamp carefully and thrust it into the hole.  He could see now, as he carefully examined the bricks; and he was easily convinced that he had not entered a cross wall.  Nevertheless, when he had been working with the bar, he had not detected any change in the sound, as he thought he must have done, if he had been near the further side.  Was the wall ten feet thick?  He looked again.  It was not a vaulting, that was clear; and it could not be anything but a wall.  There was some comfort in that.  He drew back a little, put the lamp into the lantern again and got out backwards.  The passage was bright; he looked up quickly and started.

Sabina was standing beside him, holding the large lamp.  Her big hat had fallen back and her hair made a fair cloud between it and her white face.

“I thought something had happened to you,” she said, “so I brought the lamp.  You stopped working for such a long time,” she explained, “I thought you must have hurt yourself, or fainted.”

“No,” answered Malipieri.  “There is nothing the matter with me.  I was looking at the bricks.”

“You must need rest, for it is past ten o’clock.  I looked at the watch.”

“I will rest when I get through the wall.  There is no time to be lost.  Are you very hungry?”

“No.  I am a little thirsty.”  She looked at the black water, pouring down the overflow shaft.

“That water is not good to drink,” said Malipieri, thinking of what was at the bottom of the well.  “We had better not drink it unless we are absolutely forced to.  I hope to get you out in two hours.”

He stood leaning on his crowbar, his dark hair covered with dust, his white shirt damp and clinging to him, and all stained from rubbing against the broken masonry.

“It would be better to rest for a few minutes,” she said, not moving.

He knew she was right, but he went with her reluctantly, and presently he was sitting beside her on the marble limbs of the Aphrodite.  She turned her face to him a little shyly, and then looked away again.

“Were ever two human beings in such a situation before!”

“Everything has happened before,” Malipieri answered.  “There is nothing new.”

“Does it hurt very much to die of starvation?” Sabina asked after a little pause.

“Not if one has plenty of water.  It is thirst that drives people mad.  Hunger makes one weak, that is all.”

“And cold, I am sure.”

“Very cold.”

They were both silent.  She looked steadily at the gleaming bronze statue before her, and Malipieri looked down at his hands.

“How long does it take to starve to death?” she asked at last.

“Strong men may live two or three weeks if they have water.”

“I should not live many days,” Sabina said thoughtfully.  “It would be awful for you to be living on here, with me lying dead.”