The throb of her hand in his was like the
heart-beat of hope. He felt himself no longer a drifting spectator of
life but a sharer in its gifts and renunciations. Which this meeting
would bring he dared not yet surmise: it was enough that he was with
Fulvia and that love had freed his spirit.
At length she began to speak. Her agitation was so great that he had
difficulty in piecing together the fragments of her story; but for the
moment he was more concerned in regaining her confidence than in seeking
to obtain a clear picture of the past. Before she could end, the gondola
rounded the corner of the narrow canal skirting the garden-wall of Santa
Chiara. Alarmed lest he should lose her again he passionately urged her
to receive him on the morrow; and after some hesitation she consented. A
moment later their prow touched the postern and the boatman gave a low
call which proved him no novice at the business. Fulvia signed to Odo
not to speak or move; and they sat listening intently for the opening of
the gate. As soon as it was unbarred she sprang ashore and vanished in
the darkness of the garden; and with a cold sense of failure Odo heard
the bolt slipping back and the stealthy fall of the oars as the gondola
slid away under the shadow of the convent-wall. Whither was he being
carried and would that bolt ever be drawn for him again? In the sultry
dawn the convent loomed forbiddingly as a prison, and he could hardly
believe that a few hours earlier the very doors now closed against him
had stood open to all the world.
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