It was a beautiful apartment that Dmitry had found for them on the Grand
Canal in Venice, in an old palace looking southwest. A convenient door in
a side canal cloaked the exit and entry of its inhabitants from curious
eyes--had there been any to indulge in curiosity; but in Venice there is a
good deal of the feeling of live and let live, and the _dolce far niente_
of the life is not conducive to an over-anxious interest in the doings of
one's neighbours.

Money and intelligence can achieve a number of things in a short space of
time, and Dmitry had had both at his command, so everything, including a
_chef_ from Paris and a retinue of Italian servants, was ready when on the
Tuesday evening Paul arrived at the station.

What a wonderland it seemed to him, Venice! A wonderland where was
awaiting him his heart's delight--more passionately desired than ever
after three days of total abstinence.

As after the Friday afternoon he had spent more or less in hiding in the
terrace-room, his lady had judged it wiser for him not to come at all to
Lucerne, and on the Saturday had met him at a quiet part of the shore of
the lake, beyond the landing-steps of the _funiculaire,_ and for a few
short hours they had cruised about on the blue waters--but her sweetest
tenderness and ready wit had not been able entirely to eliminate the
feeling of unrest which troubled them. And then there were the nights, the
miserable evenings and nights of separation. On the Sunday she had
departed to Venice, and after she had gone, Paul had returned for one day
to Lucerne, leaving again on the Monday, apparently as unacquainted with
Madame Zalenska as he had been the first night of his arrival.