they rested on the other loggia couches, so that his closing eyes might
know her near.




CHAPTER XIX


No Englishwoman would have thought of the details which made the Feast of
the Full Moon so wonderful in Paul's eyes. It savoured rather of other
centuries and the days of Imperial Rome, and indeed, had his lady been one
of Britain's daughters, he too might have found it a little _bizarre_. As
it was, it was all in the note--the exotic note of Venice and her spells.

The lady had gone to her room when he woke on the loggia, and he had only
time to dress before the appointed moment when he was to meet her in the
little salon.

She was seated on the old Venetian chair she had bought in Lucerne when
Paul entered--the most radiant vision he had yet seen. Her garment was
pale-green gauze. It seemed to cling in misty folds round her exquisite
shape; it was clasped with pearls; the most magnificent ones hung in a row
round her throat and fell from her ears. A diadem confined her glorious
hair, which descended in the two long strands twisted with chains of
emeralds and diamonds. Her whole personality seemed breathing magnificence
and panther-like grace. And her eyes glowed with passion, and mystery, and
force.

Paul knelt like a courtier, and kissed her hand. Then he led her to their