"Are you coming, Markham?"
The low voice was pitched in a very intimate note. Kitty turned with a
start.
* * * * *
"A casa!" said Madame d'Estrees, and she and her friend made for one of
the canals that pierce the Zattere, while Colonel Warington went off for
a walk along the Giudecca.
Kitty and Ashe bade their gondoliers take them to the Piazzetta, and
presently they were gliding across waters of flame and silver, where the
white front and red campanile of San Giorgio--now blazing under the
sunset--mirrored themselves in the lagoon. The autumn evening was fresh
and gay. A light breeze was on the water; lights that only Venice knows
shone on the tawny sails of fishing-boats making for the Lido, on the
white sides of an English yacht, on the burnished prows of the gondolas,
on the warm reddish-white of the Ducal Palace. The air blowing from the
Adriatic breathed into their faces the strength of the sea; and in the
far distance, above that line of buildings where lies the heart of
Venice, the high ghosts of the Friulian Alps glimmered amid the sweeping
regiments and purple shadows of the land-hurrying clouds.
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