She now touched a note that she had touched in an interrupted prelude.
"The last night of September," she added. "Do you remember?"
Her heart was filled with exaltation to such a degree that she almost feared it would fail her. But she resolved that her voice should utter firmly the name that must break the silence between her friend and herself.
"Do you remember the ship anchored before the gardens? A salute greeted the flag as it slid down the mast. Our gondola touched the ship as we passed under its shadow."
A moment's pause. Her pallor was animated by a wonderful vitality.
"Then, in that shadow, you first spoke Donatella's name."
She made a new effort, as a swimmer, submerged by a wave, rises again and shakes his head free of the foam.
"She began then to be yours!"
She felt as if she were growing rigid from head to foot. Her eyes stared fixedly at the glittering water.