"But this," she said, "though you might well think it so, is not the ninth wonder of the world."
"I think the ninth wonder of the world, as well as the first and last, is walking beside me," said Anthony, in silence, to the sky.
The path ended in an arbour, roofed and walled with rose-vines; and herein were garden-chairs and a table.
"Shall we sit here a little?" proposed Susanna.
She put down her sunshade, and they established themselves under the roof of roses. On the table stood a Chinese vase, red and gold, with a dragon-handled cover.
"Occasion 's everything, beyond a doubt," thought Anthony. "But the rub is to know an occasion when you see it. Is this an occasion?"
He looked at her, and his heart trembled, and held him back.
"Oh, the fragrance of the roses," said Susanna. "How do they do it? A pinch of sunshine, a drop or two of dew, a puff of air, a handful of brown earth—and out of these they distil what seems as if it were the very smell of heaven."
But she spoke in tones noticeably hushed, as if fearing to be overheard.
Anthony looked round.