Now and then, the nearer dip of an oar in the water told of the viewless passage of other gondolas bringing guests back to the hotel.

Excepting these rare sounds, the mysterious night-silence of Venice was literally the silence of the grave.
Leaning on the parapet of the balcony, Agnes looked vacantly into the black void beneath.

Her thoughts reverted to the miserable man who had broken his pledged faith to her, and who had died in that house.

Some change seemed to have come over her since her arrival in Venice; some new influence appeared to be at work.

For the first time in her experience of herself, compassion and regret were not the only emotions aroused in her by the remembrance of the dead Montbarry.