It made Paul's pulses bound, it seemed so of the picture and the night.
All was a mad dream of exotic emotion, and this was just an extra note.

But who was Vasili? And what did his presence portend? Something fateful
at all events.

The lady did not speak further, only by the quiver of her nostrils and the
gleam in her eyes he knew how deeply she was stirred.

Yes, one or the other would feel the whip, if they had been over-zealous
in their duties!

It seemed out of sheer defiance of some fate that she decided to go on
into the lagoon when they passed San Georgio. It was growing late, and
Paul's thoughts had turned to greater joys. He longed to clasp her in his
arms, to hold her, and prove her his own. But she sat there, her small
head held high, and her eyes fearless and proud--thus he did not dare to
plead with her.

But presently, when she perceived the servants were no longer following,
her mood changed, the sweetness of the serpent of old Nile fell upon her,
and all of love that can be expressed in whispered words and tender
hand-clasps, she lavished upon Paul, after ordering the gondolier to
hasten back to the palazzo. It seemed as if she, too, could not contain
her impatience to be again in her lover's arms.

"I will not question them to-night," she said when they arrived, and she
saw Dmitry awaiting her on the steps. "To-night we will live and love at
least, my Paul. Live and love in passionate bliss!"