"Let us go outside for a little, then," she said.
He offered her his arm, and the next moment was leading her through a
long, thickly carpeted passage to a flight of marble steps that led
downwards into the palace-garden.
He did not speak at all; and she, without glancing at him, was aware of
a very decided constraint in his silence. She would not be disconcerted
by it. She was determined to maintain a calm attitude; but her heart
quickened a little in spite of her. She saw that he had chosen an exit
that would lead them away from the crowd.
Dumbly they descended the steps, Fletcher unhesitatingly drawing her
forward. The garden was a marvel of many-coloured lights, intricate and
bewildering as a maze. Its paths were all carpeted, and their feet made
no sound. It was like a dream-world.
Here and there were nooks and glades of deepest shadow. Through one of
these, without a pause, Fletcher led her, emerging at length into a
wonderful fairyland where all was blue--a twilight haunt, where
countless tiny globes of light nestled like sapphires upon every shrub
and tree, and a slender fountain rose and fell tinkling in a shallow
basin of blue stone.
A small arbour, domed and pillared like a temple, stood beside the
fountain, and as they ascended its marble steps a strong scent of
sandalwood fell like a haze of incense upon Beryl's senses.
There was no light within the arbour, and on the threshold instinctively
she stopped short.
Pages:
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145