'Madame is occupied,' he said as curtly. 'Come, my dear. Unless you are sure you would not sooner stop here and return in the morning?' he added. 'My wife bade me say she would be happy if you would so decide.'
'Oh no!' said Damaris, with terror in her eyes. 'I could not, I dare not! My grandfather may be home at sunrise.'
'Come, then,' said Othmar.
She needed no second bidding, but willingly followed him through the gardens to the landing-place of the little harbour. The moon was brilliant; the cedars and other evergreen trees spread their boughs over the marble balustrades; the aloes and cacti raised their broad spears and showed their fantastic shapes in the clear white light; there was a marble copy of the Faun which laughed at the stars; the waves were gently rippling over the last stair, the sea spread smooth as a lake as far as the eye could reach; the lights of Villefranche glittered in the darkness in the curve of the shore; the air was fragrant with the scent of millions of violets and of the tall bay thickets under which they bloomed.
Othmar paused involuntarily.
'How seldom we look at the night!' he said with an unconscious sigh.
'It is so beautiful here!' she said with a sigh which echoed his, but had a very different emotion for its source as she looked with timidity at the marble Faun. She had never seen a statue before; she was not sure what its meaning was, but the sweet laughing face whose lips seemed to move in the moonlight bewitched her.
'It is as beautiful on your island, no doubt,' he answered, 'and far more natural. This place is almost wholly conventional.'
The word said nothing to her; she had never heard it before. She was gazing at the marble statue.
'What does that mean?' she said with hesitation.