Access Online - The European Library

Access Online - The European Library Access Online - The European Library

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CHAPTER VI.We stood there, two creatures, quite alone onthe edge of the river. There must have beenpeople near,but there were none in sight;theboats rocked onthelittle waves;the heavymassesof the trees wereblack;breadths of silveryhghtrippled under the arches;from the convent ofthe Franciscans on the island,there came distantsounds of chanting;the fidl moon hung abovethe pines of Pamfili. She remained kneeling :■herhead bowedclownbetweenher hands. Greatsobs shook allher frame.It was so still; there might have been onlyin the city, the ghostly world of all its deadmultitudes, it was so still. At lastIgrewfrightened, seeing her thus upon the stones, so-

ARIADNE. 83motionless.Itouched and raised her; she roseslowly to her feet." HaveIbeen mad ?" she said to me.Hardly couldIkeep from weeping,Imyself." Nay, my dear, not that," Isaid to her." Nay, never that; you have been ill. Butnow-?>She shivered from head to foot. With returningreasonno doubt she remembered all thingsthat had passed. She was silent, standing andlooking on the Etruscan river, she had loved sowell, asit flowed to the sea beneath the moon.Her eyeshad lost their strained look of unconsciouspain,and the burning light had gone outof them; they were wet and dim, and had anunspeakablemisery in them,like that in ayounganimal's, whenitis dying,andknows thatit dies." What month isit ? " she asked.Itoldher."It was summer when he wrote," she said,and then was still again, gazing at the water.Ibegan to fear that too soonIhad rejoiced,and that the clouds woulcl gather overher again,and that she again woulcl lose herself in thata 2

ARIADNE. 83motionless.Itouched and raised her; she roseslowly to her feet." HaveIbeen mad ?" she said to me.Hardly couldIkeep from weeping,Imyself." Nay, my dear, not that," Isaid to her." Nay, never that; you have been ill. Butnow-?>She shivered from head to foot. With returningreasonno doubt she remembered all thingsthat had passed. She was silent, standing andlooking on the Etruscan river, she had loved sowell, asit flowed to the sea beneath the moon.Her eyeshad lost their strained look of unconsciouspain,and the burning light had gone outof them; they were wet and dim, and had anunspeakablemisery in them,like that in ayounganimal's, whenitis dying,andknows thatit dies." What month isit ? " she asked.Itoldher."It was summer when he wrote," she said,and then was still again, gazing at the water.Ibegan to fear that too soonIhad rejoiced,and that the clouds woulcl gather overher again,and that she again woulcl lose herself in thata 2

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