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Turnbull, Mrs. Lawrence

"A Golden Book of Venice"


He had followed her and folded her passionately to his heart, as she
crossed the threshold of their home on her way to San Donato. "I must be
first," he said, "to bless thee on thy bridal day. Fret thee not, for
thou art bidden to a mission, since thou goest forth from the people to
the highest circle of the nobles. And love alone hath bidden and drawn
thee. Forget it not, Marina! So shall a blessing go with thee and rest
upon thee!"
She had brought a gift to the Madonna of San Donato--an exquisite altar
lamp of ivory and silver--and from the flowers which she had laid upon
the altar while she knelt in prayer, she gathered some to scatter over
the grave of the tiny Zuane.
When Marina returned slowly through the little square, Murano was awake;
the painted sails of the fishing-boats were tacking in the breeze, the
activities of the simple homes had commenced, women with their
water-jugs were chatting round the well, detaining little ones clinging
to the fringes of the tawny mantles which hung below their waists; a few
stopped her with greetings; here and there a child ran to her
shyly--their mothers, from the low cottage doorways, calling to them
that "the donzel Marina had given them festa.


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