“Friend,” said Roland, “opinions may differ: mine is, considering the defences of the windows, that the only way into these houses or out of them bodily was the doorway.”
Roland complimented his sister and friend on the prosecution of their studies: he could not understand a word of the subject, and yawning, he begged permission to be allowed to land and join the gondola at a distant quarter. The gallant officer was in haste to go.
Renée stared at her brother. He saw nothing; he said a word to the gondoliers, and quitted the boat. Mars was in pursuit. She resigned herself, and ceased then to be a girl.
CHAPTER VI.
LOVE IN VENICE
The air flashed like heaven descending for Nevil alone with Renée. They had never been alone before. Such happiness belonged to the avenue of wishes leading to golden mists beyond imagination, and seemed, coming on him suddenly, miraculous. He leaned toward her like one who has broken a current of speech, and waits to resume it. She was all unsuspecting indolence, with gravely shadowed eyes.
“I throw the book down,” he said.
She objected. “No; continue: I like it.”
Both of them divined that the book was there to do duty for Roland.
He closed it, keeping a finger among the leaves; a kind of anchorage in case of indiscretion.
“Permit me to tell you, M. Nevil, you are inclined to play truant to-day.”