The perfect stillness had something alarming in it, and
none of them fully trusted Contarini.
"I think," said Venier with all his habitual indolence, "that it is time
to ascertain the colour of the lady's hair. Can you break the lock?"
He spoke to Foscari, who nodded and went to the door with two or three
others. In a few seconds it flew open before their combined attack, and
they almost lost their balance as they staggered out into the dark hall.
The rest brought lights and they all began to go up the stairs together.
The first to enter the room was Foscari. Venier, always indifferent, was
among the last.
Foscari started at the extraordinary sight of a man in magnificent
clothes, lying on one shoulder, with his heels tied up to his hands and
his shorn head and face moving slowly from side to side in the bright
light of the wax candle that stood on the floor. The other men crowded
into the room, but at first no one recognised the master of the house.
Then all at once Foscari saw the rings on his fingers.
"It is Contarini," he cried, "and somebody has shaved his head!"
He burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter, in which the others
joined, till the house rang again, and the banished servants came
running down to see what was the matter.
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