It was in the purple and crimson of a sunset that Paul first saw the courtyard, and the golden oranges among their dark green leaves, and the marble fauns and nymphs, and heard the plashing of the fountain. The crimson light from the sky was touching the white marble of the figures, transforming them momentarily to the warm flush of life. Sara and Paul passed between them and up the steps of the old house into the great hall where the smiling Italian servants were ready to greet them, and where from the gallery above the haughty ladies of the house of Corleone looked down upon the two, and where from among them the portrait of the now true owner of the place glowed like a great blue sapphire.
And a couple of hours later they came into the dining-room, where shaded lamps filled the place with a soft mellow light, and shed their glow on the white damask cloth, on the shining glass and silver, on decanters of red wine, and on dishes of golden oranges. Soft-footed low-voiced servants waited on them. It was a magic scene, over which the gods of Love and Joy reigned supreme.
And later still, the moon rose in the night sky, bathing the lake in silver, touching the marble statues to unearthly whiteness, and finding its way through a great window where two figures stood together looking at its light upon the sleeping lake. Behind them the room was full of flickering lights and shadows from a fire of fir-cones burning on the hearth.
And at last Sara turned from the strange beauty of the scene, and saw Paul’s eyes upon her.
“Are you—content?” she asked.
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CHAPTER XXXIII A GIFT FROM THE DEAD
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