It made me so proud of you, down there!" He muttered something vague; and--the stairs ending in ruin at the fourth story--handed her carefully through the window to a small outer balustrade.

As they stood together at the rail, he knew not whether to be angry, suspicious, or glad.
"I love this prospect," she began quietly.

"That's why I wanted you to come." Beyond the camphors, a wide, strange landscape glowed in the full, low-streaming light.

The ocean lay a sapphire band in the east; in the west, on a long ridge, undulated the gray battlements of a city, the antique walls, warmed and glorified, breasting the flood of sunset.

All between lay vernal fields and hillocks, maidenhair sprays of bamboo, and a wandering pattern of pink foot-paths.