that we should love one another, love saves the world."

When Pierre at last succeeded in reaching the door of the Hall of the
Antiques, where the buffet was installed, he found Prada there,
motionless, gazing despite himself on the galling spectacle which he
desired to flee. A power stronger than his will had kept him there,
forcing him to turn round and look, and look again. And thus, with a
bleeding heart, he still lingered and witnessed the resumption of the
dancing, the first figure of a quadrille which the orchestra began to
play with a lively flourish of its brass instruments. Benedetta and
Dario, Celia and Attilio were /vis-à-vis/. And so charming and
delightful was the sight which the two couples presented dancing in the
white blaze, all youth and joy, that the King and Queen drew near to them
and became interested. And soon bravos of admiration rang out, while from
every heart spread a feeling of infinite tenderness.

"I'm dying of thirst, let's go!" repeated Prada, at last managing to
wrench himself away from the torturing sight.

He called for some iced lemonade and drank the glassful at one draught,
gulping it down with the greedy eagerness of a man stricken with fever,
who will never more be able to quench the burning fire within him.

The Hall of the Antiques was a spacious room with mosaic pavement, and
decorations of stucco; and a famous collection of vases, bas-reliefs, and
statues, was disposed along its walls. The marbles predominated, but
there were a few bronzes, and among them a dying gladiator of extreme
beauty. The marvel however was the famous statue of Venus, a companion to
that of the Capitol, but with a more elegant and supple figure and with
the left arm falling loosely in a gesture of voluptuous surrender. That