The Patriarch with his pomp, the Signoria and Senate in their robes of
state, the nobles and the pageant were all forgotten. In the sacramental
lights of the ceremonial candles of the great altar, flashing back from
the marvelous _Pala d'Oro_, she saw only Marco waiting for her--to whom
her father, beloved and trusted, was leading her with her heart's
consent.
How should she falter on the path from love to love!
XIV
But even in Venice--the magic city--there were days of mists, silvery
and gray, when life took on the indistinctness and indecision of a
dream; as there were days less lucent, when sea and sky melted in an
indistinguishable line and the chameleon tints of the marshes mellowed
into a monotonous gray surface--when the wonted brilliancy of the sunset
clouds, and the glittering domes and campaniles were only faint gray
shadows on the gray whiteness of the waters. And gondoliers came
suddenly into vision, parting the mists with thin, black, swaying
outlines, as quickly fading in the near, gray distance when they passed,
while the shipping loomed like phantoms on an immediate horizon,
vanishing, vision-like; and even the sounds of life came muffled over
the still lagoon, like ghostly echoes from a city wrapped in dreams.
Pages:
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210