Literary Love-Letters and Other Stories

ly with flowers. A low vine-covered villino slanted along the canal; beyond, there was a c

re, loitering in a bed of purple tulips. Her dark hair

e canal and walked softly through the plats

il cava

ed, clumsily, revealing one po

ed for a

explanatorily. Her eyes follow

he had turned away as if to direct

about be

ing; I feel it; it's

he Giudecca. One is so much at home here. At night you can see the lights along the Lid

apped a ben

world lies

e could find defence, "You have come to redeem your words, to tell me that you love me despe

laug

el

would

ething to offer," Lawr

a mi

rass-plot over to the Lido side. Here the oi

ring in the garden-a plant

im than to herself. "I don't fit in. You cannot take m

oo

t, or a priest, or a pastor for the bleeding world. You are a trifle late; half a century

e young man sighed. "Why should it bother you, my fooling with the forlo

dozen paces to the Redentore wal

Yes, I should object," she looked at

back as if to lo

body and spirit

you; I call

pleaded, "I love f

hed unco

hard. You think you are enjoying your wine an

The vines on the vill

to the water, and I wi

her, half curiously. At length she ut

and leave me; love another and leave

u. The world, breathing, living, lov

for a moment. Then

. I forgot we were to go t

include a comment-a mental note of some hint he must give. "In stalks the wo

nguid arm in farewell. He could feel the smile with which she swept Caspar Severance, the wo

ional prescription, a fortnight of movement-then this. He had cursed that combination of nerve and tissue; equally he cursed this. One word to his gondolier and in two hours he

ind. He told himself that he had seen her, heard her voice; that her eyes had been close to his, t

urch windows and palings of furtive gardens, until he came to the plashings of the waves on the marble steps along the Grand Canal. Empty! that, too, was empty from side to side between cool palace fa?ades, the length of its expressiv