skirts, the lassitude that seemed to hang, almost like spiders' webs
about wood, about the body which contained her tired spirit, restrained
her enthusiasm from being a match for his. Perhaps she knew this and
wished to come up with him, for she added, throwing a warm sound into
her voice:

"It is exquisite. It is the most magical thing I have ever seen."

She touched her veil, as she spoke, and put up her hand to her hair
behind. Two Frenchmen, talking with sonorous voices, were just then
passing them on the road.

"I didn't know any sunset could be so marvellous."

She was still touching her hair, and now she felt clothed in dust; and,
with the ardour of a fastidious woman who has not seen the inside of a
dressing-room for twenty-four hours, she longed to be rid both of the
sunset and of the man.

"Where is the villa, Nigel?"

"Not ten minutes away."

The spirit groaned within her, and she went resolutely forward, passing
the Winter Palace Hotel.

"What a huge hotel--but it isn't open!" she said.

"It will be almost directly. We turn to the right down here."