This also--this last longing--she must surrender!
Her white face grew brave again; she sat down and drew her veil--the
ample _fazzuolo_ of the Muranese--more closely about her. "I am ready,"
she said, and turned her face resolutely forward.
As they rounded San Giorgio, turning into the broad Giudecca, a shoal of
little boats came over the water from Murano.
"They are the nuns of San Donato!" she said in amazement, and drawing
her veil closer. "Piero, canst thou not ask their whither?"
It was so strange, on this morning of all others, to see them turn in
the direction of Ca' Giustiniani; there came a vision of her chapel,
which her maidens were decking--of the dear altar, at which she should
kneel no more--and she held her breath to hear the answer.
"Will the most Reverend Mother bless the boat of a gondolier of the
people; and his sister, who hath been ill and craveth the morning air?"
Piero, who had discarded every emblem of his office, and wore only the
simple dress of the Nicolotti, put the question easily, without fear of
recognition.
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