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