The court was bathed in moonlight, as it had been that night long ago, when the proud, sweet vision of her had waked his childishness to a sense of duty. So now she was proud and sweet. She stepped lightly, with a rustle of wings, ready to fly. Ah! she was a true angel! Anania thought himself still dreaming. Presently she would float up and vanish, and he would not be able to follow her. And the desire to put his arm round that slender waist with its green ribbon made him giddy.
"I shall never see her again!" he told himself; "I shall fall dead the instant she has shut the door!"
Margherita pulled the chain; then turned and extended her hand. She was pale.
"Good-bye. I'll write to you," she whispered.
"Good-bye!" said he, shivering with joy.
The contact of their hands perhaps caused some grand explosion. For they felt as it were a great booming in their ears, and the heat and the light of a thunderbolt fell round them, while—rapturously—they kissed each other.
[12]Sign of familiarity and friendship.
[VIII]
At Cagliari Anania went through the Lyceum course, then two years at the University. He was studying Law. These years were like an intermezzo in his life; sweet and inspiriting music.
He began a new existence from the moment he set foot in the train, and was carried across the lonely plains, the dreariness of which was aggravated by autumn. He felt a new person clothed in a new vesture, soft and comfortable after one torn and narrow. Was it Margherita's kiss which made him so happy? or the good-bye to all the petty wretchednesses of the past? or the somewhat timorous joy of liberty with the thought of the unknown world to which he was hurrying? He neither knew nor sought to know. How beautiful, how easy was life! He felt strong, handsome, victorious. All women loved him, all the doors of life opened to his feet. Pride and enjoyment enwrapped his soul like an odorous, an intoxicating vapour, through which he discerned horizons as yet undreamed.