when Marcello's children's children are at your knee?"

He kissed her hand tenderly.




CHAPTER II


Marcello stood at an open window listening to the musical spring rain
and watching the changing lights on the city below him, as the
dove-coloured cloud that floated over Rome like thin gauze was drawn up
into the sunshine. Then there were sudden reflections from distant
windows and wet domes, that blazed like white fires for a little while,
till the raindrops dried and the waves of changing hues that had surged
up under the rain, rising, breaking, falling, and spreading, subsided
into a restful sea of harmonious colour.

After that, the sweet smell of the wet earth came up to Marcello's
nostrils. A light breeze stirred the dripping emerald leaves, and the
little birds fluttered down and hopped along the garden walks and over
the leaves, picking up the small unwary worms that had been enjoying a
bath while their enemies tried to keep dry under the ilex boughs.

Marcello half closed his eyes and drank the fragrant air with parted
lips, his slim white hands resting on the marble sill. The sunshine made
his pale face luminous, and gilded his short fair hair, casting the
shadow of the brown lashes upon his delicate cheeks. There was something
angel-like in his expression--the look of the frescoed angels of Melozzo