Literary Love-Letters and Other Stories
se-bushes were in bloom. A broken Venus, presiding over a dusty fountain, made the centre of the cortile, and there a strapping girl from the campagna was bus
m olive-stump to trellis, weaving a mat of undulating green. It was so quiet, here in the rear
rl. From time to time she threw him a soft word of Venetian. Then, gathering her
hout intention, but he came to
l here, while he was alone, before her presence came to rule, he plotted little things. When he was left with himself he wondered about it; no, he did not want her, did not want it! His life
t her, shivering in the damp passage.
t go," she expla
nd turned her head wearily to the vineyard. Over the swaying tendrils
w?" her face
"He has been talking two hours about you,
detain
g to the world, he said, and, the world would have
come to
laid her hand reprovingly on his ar
m down the arched walk between t
-that you were a little
dee
at any wayside shrine; that the s
ou bel
no
ght so. Once a few feet aw
an was guil
ayside chapel, good
it per
m was
try to arrange it. Perhaps you
will make the
aid n
volving the matter; a gardener came down the path. "You will get the message ton
nce t
see the
here and there, a long shutter. The vast hall, in the
ss the water to the piazza. Beneath, beside the quay, a green-painted Greek s
probably waiting for his report.
felt her v
ot tha
dded deliberatively, placing
ed, more than you care for the little people and things. See, I can take you now. I can say you are min
hed the
s settle nothing. Let us have
The girl came back again. S
said. "Stay he
l go to
k. "You will get the me
for any woma
flung out
d then returned to the balcony over the fondamenta. In the half-light he could see her step
ine." But she seemed to be speaking to her comp